Fathers and Sons
by culturegeek76
Summary: AH, AU. Eric Northman is an actor with Daddy issues. Sookie Stackhouse is a nurse with a celebrity crush. What will happen when a family emergency brings the two together? Eric/Yvetta, Eric/Sookie eventually.
1. Chapter 1

Celebrity Mag -** The Viking's Romantic Getaway! **

Sookie doesn't normally read tabloid trash, but her attention is captured by the headline and the cover image. It depicts a gorgeous sundrenched couple relaxing on a tropical beach. The man is reclined on a chaise long, reading a script and sipping a beer. The woman, clad in a revealing string bikini, is kneeling next to chair with a margarita in her hand.

While waiting for the cashier to ring through the purchases of the woman in front of her, Sookie flips through the pages of the publication. Inside, the article features several more pictures of the couple.

One shows the woman straddling the man and kissing him, the next shows his arms wrapped around her, another shows the man being lead through the patio doors by the woman, the beer bottle still in his hand. The last two photographs show the woman's bikini top flying past the open window, then the man's swim trunks.

Sookie hadn't believed the rumours when she'd first heard them. Truthfully, she was a little disappointed to think one of her favourite actors was being sucked into the Hollywood machine. Not that she could begrudge him. Yvetta Alam was gorgeous, however, she was better known for her off-camera antics than her acting talents. Notorious for her high profile relationships with heartthrobs, Yvetta was no stranger to the supermarket headlines. But her partner in crime on this particular occasion, Eric Northman, was far less paparazzi friendly.

"They're getting super close," says a source close to the couple. "He's really serious about her."

Sookie sneered as she read the article. Maybe it was just a fling? She rolled her eyes at herself. It's not like she was ever going to meet the guy!

**Well folks - what do you think?**

* * *

**A/N:** Any non-original characters belong to Charlaine Harris, Alan Ball, HBO et al. I'm just playing with them for fun and not for profit.  
Some situations in this story are inspired by real life celebrity gossip. Names and identifying details have been changed to protect the guilty.  
This is all for fun folks - try not to take anything too seriously. Apologies to Natasha Alam (who plays Yvetta) for stealing her last name, you're beautiful and I mean no insult against you.


	2. Chapter 2

Celebrity Mag – **Northman is off the market**

Yvetta Alam is engaged! The actress, who alluded to the news in a travel blog for Swag Magazine, confirmed her engagement on Twitter.

"This photo was taken by my husband-to-be," the starlet tweeted yesterday. "Thanks for all the kind wishes and congratulations… We feel blessed to have found each other!"

~0~

Sookie grits her teeth as she stares at the photo of the grinning blonde. She looks remarkably made up for a casual snapshot taken by a boyfriend. Whatever, it's none of her business, right? She has much more important things to do with her life.

~0~

Sookie sits in front of her television eating popcorn with her friends Tara and Lafayette. It's the Thespian Awards, the biggest awards show on the planet. It gets over million viewers worldwide! They've got a bottle of wine going, and they're having a blast critiquing the celebrity fashions. It's been a long evening, and Sookie has been waiting all night for the next award, not that she'd mention it to her friends. They'd tease her relentlessly!

The set is showing a wide shot of an auditorium filled to the brim with men in tuxes and women in formal gowns. A hush falls over the crowd as the woman onstage opens an envelope and squints at the writing on the card in her hand.

"And the thespian award for best performance by a male in a feature film is... Eric Northman, Valhalla!"

The camera cuts to close up of the award winner as he kisses his gorgeous companion on the cheek. He rises out of his seat, running his fingers through his chin length blonde hair. He smiles widely as he ascends the stairs onto the stage.

He takes the statuette from the presenter with a grin and makes his way to the podium. There is a frenzy of applause as he waits for the microphone to rise to accommodate his height. Eric Northman is literally a Hollywood giant, standing 6'4."

"I'd like to thank everyone who was involved with this film, it was a great team and I couldn't have won this without your hard work and dedication... Thanks to my loved ones..."

The camera cuts back to the man's companion, Yvetta, as she smiles and blows air kisses at her beau on the stage, lights sparkling off the large diamond on her ring finger, before cutting back to Eric.

"...particularly my mother, who passed away last year, who convinced me to take this role, suggesting that playing the very role my father made famous would be the way to step out of his shadow..."

Now the camera cuts to an older gentleman, seated in the audience. Jack Northman is nodding and clapping proudly. The woman next to him pats him on the shoulder affectionately and he looks at her briefly before closing his eyes and then refocusing his attention on the stage.

Once again, the television audience is treated to a close up of Eric as he finishes his speech, "...and prove myself as an actor. Thank you."

"Did you see that rock on that gold-digger's finger?" Tara asks scornfully.

"How could you miss it?" Lafayette agrees. "Bitch could have taken my eye out with that thing!"

"I can't believe he's marrying her!" Sookie sighs.

"Oh honey, if he met you he'd ditch that trash in a second," Tara laughs.

Sookie grins and tosses a handful of popcorn at her friend.

~0~

The presenter escorts Eric off the stage, where he is greeted by a petite but formidable looking middle-eastern woman with an earpiece.

"Thalia," she says, reintroducing herself. "I'm with the studio's PR agency."

He nods, indicating he recalls who she is.

"Let's do this," she says.

Eric feels her hand on his back, and allows her to guide him towards a small dais with a backdrop where post-award press conferences are set up. Several reporters are there, along with camera crews, photographers and studio publicists, waiting to capture his every word.

He steps up to the microphone, award dangling from his left hand as he wipes the sweat off his brow with his other.

"Congratulations. How does it feel to win the award that your father missed out on?"

"It feels pretty great, actually."

"Did your father have any advice for you tonight?"

"No. Not particularly. He always had an attitude that award shows weren't worth worrying about. The recognition is flattering, but to remember it's a bit of a popularity contest."

"Do you agree with him?"

"Not tonight!" he replies jovially.

"Will your father be jealous?"

"I hope so," he says with a wink.

"During the press for the movie, you said you hadn't talked to your father about how to play this role. Have you spoken since to discuss what he thought of your performance?"

Eric looks over at Thalia, who interrupts the proceedings efficiently. "I'm sorry, but Mr. Northman needs to move along, thank you."

Eric steps off the stage, looking angry. "All they wanted to ask about was my father? What the fuck was that?"

"I know, I know, like dogs with a bone. You handled it just fine," Thalia replies.

"How do I get out of here?"

"Not so fast! You've still got to drop by the media suites."

Eric frowns. "Fuck."

"They get four minutes each, and we have the right to veto any questions. Just smile, say thank you, you are honoured and if they mention your father, just say you two don't talk about this stuff," the publicist says, trying to placate her client.

"I need a drink," Eric laments.

The publicist slaps a flask against his chest.

Eric opens the flask and takes two long belts. He follows the publicist into one of the makeshift suites where the intern from some entertainment television show mics him up and instructs him to sit in front of a green screen.

The reporter, a bottle blonde with blindingly white teeth starts asking questions.

* * *

**A/N:** The gossip snippets are all inspired by real life gossip, which I have changed to suit my own purposes. Any similarity to real life situations involving certain celebrities is entirely on purpose. Sorry if that offends, but it makes for great inspiration. Feel free to speculate the who's and what's all you like. I'm sure they are easier to solve than your average blind item!


	3. Chapter 3

**Warning:** There be lemons and illicit illegal substances.

* * *

Later that evening, Eric is at a party. The room is filled with Hollywood's beautiful people. Waiters wander about with trays of champagne and hors d'oeuvres. Eric, his bowtie undone and draped around his neck, is sitting at a table speaking loudly with a group of people. His award is on the table. Everyone is laughing as he drinks straight from a bottle of champagne.

Various people come over to congratulate him. He schmoozes. He flirts. He smiles at people he dislikes and makes small talk. His manager, Pam, would be so proud of how well he's playing the game, except the drinking part. She'd probably prefer he lay off the booze.

Across the room, he sees his father, Jack, and his father's wife, Anne. His father lifts his glass in salute. Eric raises the bottle and prays that the old man won't come over to talk to him. He doesn't.

~0~

Eric lives in a glass walled home in the Hollywood Hills. From his living room, you can see the lights of LA twinkling in the haze. It's four in the morning, maybe later. There roughly a dozen people in the living room. Music is playing at a moderate volume. There are numerous of bottles of liquor of varying fullness littered around the room.

Eric is seated on the couch, next to a couple that is making out enthusiastically. He doesn't even notice. He leans over to do a few lines of cocaine off the glass-topped coffee table then takes sips of Jack Daniels straight from the bottle.

His fiancée walks over holding hands with an attractive brunette in a satin gown. She sits and giggles as he pulls her into his lap. He gives her a drunken kiss on the forehead and she kisses him on the lips. She is wiping at her nose, as is her companion.

"Ready to go upstairs baby?" Yvetta asks with a grin.

"I'm not tired," he answers, shaking his head.

Yvetta giggles. "Who said anything about sleeping?" She leans forward and runs her finger down his chest where he has unbuttoned his shirt. She looks up into his eyes. "I just thought you might want to join the party upstairs..."

She rises from his lap and moves over to where her companion is waiting. She takes the woman's hand and disappears down the hallway. Eric watches them walk away before turning back to his friends.

"If you'll excuse me gentlemen, a host must not neglect his guests," he says. Everyone laughs in response. He follows after the women.

~0~

Eric's bedroom has no curtains and is all glass. The room is lit by the lights of the city. Eric enters the room and shuts the door slowly behind him. He finds his fiancée and her companion dancing seductively and hugging each other. Each woman extends her hand to him, extending an invitation to join their play.

"Ladies," he says.

He kisses his fiancée before turning his head to kiss the other woman. Yvetta unbuttons the rest of his shirt. He pushes the straps of the other woman's dress down of her shoulders, and the garment slides down her body. She drops to her knees and begins to undo his belt while he works his shirt off.

Yvetta grabs his face and starts kissing him. He undoes the back of her dress. The other woman has opened his pants and takes him in her mouth. Eric drops his head back with a groan. His fiancée takes a moment to step out of her dress, revealing her underwear and garters. She returns to kiss him again and he presses down on her shoulders, pushing her to her knees. She changes places with the other girl, sucking his cock as she works his pants and boxers the rest of the way down.

The woman stands and Eric pushes her dress the rest of the way off, revealing that she is only wearing a lacy thong. He yanks her forward and shoves his hand down the front of her panties. She gasps as his fingers penetrate her.

Yvetta releases his erection with a wet pop and rises to her feet. She comes to stand behind the other woman, running her fingers down her shoulders and over her breasts. She makes eye contact with Eric and smiles wickedly. Eric leans over the girl's shoulder to kiss his fiancée. With a whimper, the other woman nuzzles into their liplock. Yvetta opens her mouth to her.

Eric shuffles them back towards the bed.

* * *

**A/N:** I apologize if the lemons are awkward. I'm not a writer of love scenes. This was also originally conceived in the format of a screenplay, and writing camera angles into prose is rather difficult business, especially for an amateur like me. I know, I kept referring to the third girl in the threesome as "the other woman" I tried not to, but I refuse to give her a name. That was on purpose. Eric and Yvetta have so little regard for her, her identity is irrelevant. (That's my great deep authorial revelation right there.)


	4. Chapter 4

Entertainment Report -** Who is Eric Northman?**

It's been a big year for Eric Northman: he reprised his role as the cool-headed Sgt. Colbert in one of the most successful cable shows of all time _First Recon_, he shot a movie, had two films on the festival circuit, he got engaged, he buried his mother, and he won a passel of awards for his portrayal of Hjálmarr Carlsson in _Valhalla_.

The day of our interview, he's fresh off his win for best male performance at the Thespian awards. Despite being scruffy and unshaven, the man who folds his lanky 6'4" frame into a poolside chair at the Beverly Hills Hotel in L.A. is dazzling. The dark sunglasses he's wearing won't come off during our afternoon together. "Late night," he explains. He still manages to looks like a model.

"He's disgustingly beautiful in person," reveals his _Valhalla_ co-star, Jessica Hamby. "And a genuinely sweet guy too. It's unfair, really."

Today Eric wears a crisp white button down shirt, dark blue jeans and converse. "I'm not into fashion," he insists, despite being the face of several large menswear campaigns. With his long blond hair and striking blue eyes, he has a face the camera loves. The muscular physique and broad shoulders don't hurt either. "It's the Viking genes," he laughs. Indeed, the Swedish-born heartthrob has Norse ancestry, but that's probably not what drove his casting as the lead in the epic Valhalla remake.

In a twist of irony, Northman himself claims it's his reprisal of the role first made famous by his father, Jack Northman that will mark the turning point in his career. In his Thespian Award acceptance speech, he claimed he took the role as a means of stepping out of his father's shadow and proving himself as an actor. It's an interesting theory which may prove true; Jack's portrayal of Hjálmarr earned him a Thespy nod in 1976. "I won, he didn't," Eric shrugs. "It's the first time I've beat the old man at something." Northman senior might not have won a Thespy yet, but he's been nominated multiple times, and has won every other major acting award in film, theatre and television. It's a tough act to follow.

Despite his family's famous name, breaking through in Hollywood hasn't been easy. "The name helps get you in the door, but it doesn't seal the deal," he says. "I think it can sometimes make it even harder. There are a lot of people out there who see 'Northman' and want to take me down a peg." Like the child of many actors, he wants to establish his career based on his own merit. "My father was away for work a lot. I didn't see him all that much growing up. We're different people."

Born and raised in Sweden, he was an only child. His mother Freya was a celebrated author, his grandparents were well-known performers. "I grew up in the artists community of Stockholm, I always knew I'd do something creative," he says. "I started acting when I was six." It wasn't an entirely straight line from child actor to Hollywood star. Northman did a stint in the Swedish military before making his way to America. He downplays the significance of this, explaining that in Sweden, all males are expected to enlist. "I could have got out of it, I suppose, but after growing up the way I did, I was curious about having that kind of regimentation in my life." It also helped him land his role in _First Recon_. The producers were intrigued by his real life military experience, thinking it would bring some credibility to the role.

He briefly gave up acting as an adolescent. The characters he'd been playing made him fodder for the Swedish equivalent of _Tiger Beat_. "It freaked me out. It's hard going through puberty and figuring out who you are, let alone having everyone watching every painful moment of it." Now he's enjoying the attention. "It's a heck of a lot better than not having it." Does he mind having women wonder whether he's brandishing Thor's hammer in his pants? "Speculate away," he smirks. "Just keep your hands to yourself."

(Story continues, after the jump)

~0~

The sea of dancers is lit with shifting blue and purple lights. Bodies are swaying to the thunderous pulse of the bass. The club is packed to the gills and few take notice of Eric and Yvetta as they grind on the dancefloor. Catching his eye, she opens her mouth and places a pill on her tongue. She swallows. Slowly, seductively, she places a second tablet on her tongue and wiggles it at Eric. He leans down and kisses her, taking the pill into his own mouth and swallowing.

She wraps her arms around his neck and smiles up at him. He grins back.

~0~

Sookie rubs her eyes, seeing blue and purple spots. She's exhausted, swaying on her feet. It's been a long day and she just wants to go home and take a shower. Her pulse pounds in her ears. She checks her watch, it's 3AM. For a moment, she feels old. Gone are the days when at this same hour she'd have been out on the dance floor for another four hours.

The long shifts at the hospital are getting to her. Two twelve hour days, two twelve hour nights followed by three days of letting her circadian rhythms play catch up is getting to her. She wonders, not for the first time, if she should take Tara's advice and look for a job with a more regular schedule and better pay.

~0~

Yvetta is lying naked on the bed, her arms spread open along the pillows. The blankets and sheets are on the floor. The curtains of the hotel room are closed, but the early morning sunlight fills the room with a soft glow. Eric is naked and positioned at the bottom of the bed, covering her lower half with his own body. She moans as he licks and sucks at her clit. She's not sure if he's been there for moments or hours, but she it feels good and she doesn't want him to stop. Eric is completely lost in the task at hand. There is nothing else he wants in the world right now, except to be inside her.

He licks and sucks and kisses his way up her body, finally kissing her mouth as he penetrates her. She wraps her arms around him and draws her knees up around his hips, panting and moaning.

"I wanna be on top," she decides suddenly.

They move together, fluidly. He lies there while she rides him, his eyes rolling back in his head with the pleasure. He's never felt so fucking high.

* * *

**A/N:** The article at the top obviously did not continue after the jump, it will continue in future chapters though. I hope it's something you enjoy and find interesting. It's inspired by actual interviews with an actor who shall remain nameless. This fictionalized profile is purely inspired speculation on my part and is not intended to be a statement on any actual individuals, living or dead. If you have any questions about Eric, let me know and I'll try to include the answers in future portions of the "article."


	5. Chapter 5

_I'd like to thank all of you who have taken the time to read my story. I'd like to doubly thank those of you who take the time to comment and review - I appreciate every single crumb you share. Thanks for sticking with it, even when the going gets rough... I promise it'll get better, eventually._

* * *

Sookie lounges in the bath. She's tired. Her neck and back ache from lifting patients all day. Some of her clients are simply too heavy for her to be moving without proper equipment, but the hospital never has the budget for such things. Soon she'll need a special sling to pull herself out of the damned bathtub, she thinks.

She dries off and slips into a comfy pair of pjs. She decides to make herself some cocoa. While she's waiting for the water to boil, she spots the magazine lying on her counter. Eric Northman's baby blues glitter up at her from the cover. Hello handsome. Yes, it's pathetic, she knows. She would feel bad, but reading about celebrities is her only vice. She deserves a little happiness doesn't she? She flips open the article to where she left off.

~0~

Entertainment Report -** Who is Eric Northman? (cont'd)**

In the six seasons he's been playing Sgt. Colbert, Northman has kept his hiatus filled with a non-stop roster. He dismisses claims he's a workaholic. "I'm just taking it while it comes," he says. "I remember what it was like not getting offers for anything substantial. It was years of garbage before _First Recon_ came. I'm making the best of it while I can."

Is this a lesson learned from his father, who has also made a diverse body of work? "My father refused to play the same fellow over and over again; I don't doubt that's what kept him working." Does he hope to have the same kind of longevity? "Have you seen my old man? I think it's the work that keeps him young."

Professionally, it is difficult to pinpoint where Northman is going. Every project seems to tap into a completely different facet of his talent. He's played a transgendered psychiatric patient, a father on the verge of a midlife crisis, an action hero, the romantic lead, and the bad guy. "My goal as an actor is to keep growing. It's too easy to stagnate. I don't want to play soldiers and Vikings for the rest of my life." He's definitely more interested in being a character actor than a movie star.

So far, the hard work is paying off. "Hjálmarr Carlsson was the perfect role." It was the part that made his father famous, and it's the role that benchmarks his own career. For a man that has been avoiding comparisons to dear old dad, it seems like an odd choice. "That was my mother's idea," he admits.

Did he speak to his father about taking on the _Valhalla_ role? "No. I wanted to make it my own. I think he respected that." It's true, his father insists. "He was great, better than I was. I had no idea he was even interested in playing the part." He claims he wouldn't have given his son any advice on how to do it, even if he'd been asked. "How could he have made it his own if he consulted me? I think he made the right decision."

"Eric is his own man, he always has been," Northman senior says proudly. "He's never been one to search out my advice. He's always been determined to show me he knows how to do it without my help."

Over the course of our conversation, it becomes clear that Eric shared a closer relationship with his mother than his father. He certainly had no problems seeking out her opinions. "She's the one who convinced me to go for it, finally." Even now that she's gone, he still hears her words of advice. "Stop it, stop it. You have nothing to complain about, so suck it up!" He laughs as he tells me this, as if he is actually hearing her whisper in his ear. "My mother reached a point in her life where she stopped caring what everyone else thought, and said, 'do what you want,'" he explains. "She was at her happiest when she learned that. I think that's the most important lesson she taught me. Be yourself." That's tough advice to follow in this town.

"You give your best performance from a place of honesty," he explains. "People in this town are so afraid to be honest in their lives." Northman certainly isn't shy, producing well thought out answers "I have to watch what I say in this town," he says. "It's all about the sound bites. Everyone is so afraid to be real."

It's fascinating speaking to Eric Northman when he's out of character. When he plays Sgt. Colbert, he has a trace of California is his accent. Today that's gone, replaced by the slightest trace of his Swedish lilt. He's played southern Americans, northern Americans, even a German. "His ability to lose his accent is uncanny," says his _First Recon_ co-star Bill Compton. "The first time we spoke I was shocked to learn he wasn't from here." Northman takes that as the compliment it is, though he reveals he's not perfect. "There are times where we have to reshoot scenes, especially if my character is angry. I have a tendency to lengthen the vowels and put emphasis on the wrong syllable." He does admit that there is definitely a sing-song quality to his native tongue.

He's adamant about one thing: "There's no Swede that actually sounds like the bloody Muppet chef! We don't say bork-bork-bork!" He lets loose a barking laugh. With that, I'm shown, for the first time, the transformation his coworkers have alluded to. "He has this childlike side to him," Hamby warned me. His genuine grin is a goofy one that takes ten years off his appearance. "It also removes a layer of the hot," Hamby laments, "...finding out he's this really huge dork!"

I don't think he has much to worry about on that angle. His fans don't seem fazed at all.

(Story continues, after the jump)

~0~

"Hello, Eric. This is your father calling. Anne and I would like to invite you over for dinner," Jack says, leaving a message on his son's machine. "I want to congratulate you properly on your win, and then we have some news we'd like to share with you in person. Please call me back."

He smiles sadly at his wife as he hangs up the phone.

"He's not home?" Anne asks.

"If he is, he's not answering my calls," he shrugs.

His wife pats him on the back fondly. "He's busy."

"I know," he answers, grabbing his wife around the waist and pulling her close. He kisses her on the forehead. "I love you."

"I love you too," she replies.

He pinches her on the butt.

"You old pervert," she teases.

"I'm your old pervert," he answers with a leer.

"I know that look," she laughs and shoos him away. "It's not going to work this time."

"It's too late, you already fell for it!"

"I know," Anne laments playfully, "And look what's happened!"

~0~

Baby Watch: Northman Edition

Wait - not that Northman - the other one!

Jack Northman, 61, and his wife, Anne, 34, have announced they are expecting a child.

The couple, who have a 2-year-old son, Ivar, confirmed the pregnancy in last Friday's _Swedish Times_.

"We're thrilled to be adding to our family," Anne was quoted as saying. "I'm a lot less nervous this time around!"

The two were wed four years ago, after meeting on the set of the Swedish film _Lover's Kiss_. This is the third child for Jack, whose son, Eric Northman, recently won a Thespy for best male performance.

Congratulations to the happy couple!

~0~

Sookie sighs as she finishes reading the news. It's got to be weird to find out your father is having a child with someone younger than you. She tries not to judge other people, but she's pretty sure she'd be pissed if her dad did that. Of course, her father would have to still be alive for that to happen, but still. She'd love to have her Daddy back, but she doesn't think she'd ever approve of him taking up with a woman two years her junior. Gross.

Her parents, Corbett and Michelle, died in accident when she was very young. She can barely remember them. Her father's mother, Adele, raised her. She was a southern woman who believed firmly in manners and marital vows. Sookie tries to imagine how her Gran might have reacted if Corbett, having lived into his fifties, tried to tell her he was marrying some pretty young thing and making babies. She keeps envisioning Adele whacking sense into her son with her wooden spoon.

"Have you lost your ever-loving mind?" she'd demand.

Sookie would have to agree with Gran's assessment, though it's not something she'll ever have to deal with.

The phone rings, so she casts the thought aside.

* * *

**A/N:** I know, I know, sometimes it's a steaming pile of horse dung. I share your misery. Yes, I am borrowing heavily from real life in some instances, but it's too juicy not to. No disrespect intended. If you're offended, tell me, I can take it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you to everyone who has followed and favourited. Much love to those who have left reviews and feedback. I know my plot, pacing (and frankly everything) leave much to be desired. Thank you so much for sticking with me!**

**frozenangel1988 - I threw a little something in here for you. ;)**

* * *

"Whatcha doing?" Tara asks as she enters the living room. She and Sookie have a standing date on Sunday nights to watch _First Recon_. Lafayette usually joins them, but he had other plans that evening.

"Updating my resume," Sookie says, not looking up from her computer.

"Finally taking my advice?" Tara teases. She's been hassling Sookie about her job for months now.

"Maybe," Sookie admits with a sigh. "The hours are killing me lately."

"Nursing is hard work."

Sookie laughs at her friend's assessment. Tara has been a nurse for two years longer than she has, but she left the hospital six months prior to work for a company that provides private home care. The pay is better when the work is available. "Any openings at your company?"

"Not that I know of, but I'll talk to my boss," she promises. "The fact that you're specialized could work in your favour. Plus the boss man like me. I'll put in a good word."

"You'd better!"

"Shh!" Tara says, getting serious. It's time for the show to start. They're both obsessed with the program, but for different reasons. Sookie all about Sgt. Colbert, Eric's character. Tara is in love with Jessica Hamby who plays Eric's love interest on the show. This week's episode does not disappoint, featuring a particularly steamy scene between the two.

"Damn," Tara says, watching the couple on screen as they simulate sex. "I know I'm not really into the men these days, but that man has a great butt!"

Sookie laughs. Tara recently revealed herself as bisexual, but they rarely talk about it. Probably because Lafayette, who is out and proud, does enough talking for the both of them. When he's there, he's got a running commentary on everything.

"It is a pretty glorious butt," Sookie agrees.

"A glory-azz!" Tara says, doing her best impression of their absent friend.

That night, after Tara leaves, Sookie tries to finish the rest of the article about Eric. She can't decide whether the profile is flattering or not. If anything, it depresses her. There aren't even any pictures of Northman's beautiful behind to perk her up.

~0~

Entertainment Report - **Who is Eric Northman? (cont'd)**

Northman's fans are ardent, voracious and frankly, a little frightening. "He inspires a passion in people," Bill Compton says. "He's this great guy, and he doesn't get the fascination. He really doesn't realize."

The tabloid interest in his personal life has picked up in recent months, until then he was a relatively unknown factor. There's little doubt that it's his most recent relationship that has put his private life in the tabloid spotlight. He's currently engaged to Yvetta Alam. They met while starring in the soon to be released _Dog Days_ (while he was rumoured to be seeing his _First Recon_ cast-mate, Sophie-Anne LeClerc). Before dating Alam, Northman was rarely photographed, now he can't go anywhere without a swarm of paparazzi following his every move.

Despite being connected to several well known actresses and models, Northman's love life had yet merited this kind of scrutiny. "I wasn't promoting as many projects before either," he points out. There is a flaw in his logic though; Alam is arguably more famous for her series of high profile relationships - and their spectacular blow-outs - than she is for her performances. "Like it or not, there is little doubt that dating her has raised his 'star' profile," says gossip blogger Lainey Lui. "It's not necessarily the good kind of attention, either."

Online, Northman's fans have gone ballistic, even making death threats against the actress. "She's a beautiful woman, I think there's a lot of jealousy," he says of the controversy. "The fans can be a bit rough. I love them for supporting me, but they need to let me have my own life too." When prodded about how overt his fans have been in their disapproval of the relationship, he sips his beer and chuckles. "I guess it's a good thing they aren't the ones marrying her then." While quick to defend her honour, Eric is reluctant to discuss the substance of their partnership. "Relationships are difficult. It's not all sunshine and rainbows."

His parents divorced five years ago, after 30 years of marriage. Jack has since remarried and had a child with his second wife, Anne. "The end of the relationship was tough on my Mom; they'd been together since they were kids." Did his parents' divorce have an impact on his personal view of relationships? "Undoubtedly," he answers.

What would his mother think of all the drama? She passed away last year, just weeks after he starting work on _Dog Days_. Those closest to the actor insist that her death has had a huge impact on him, both personally and professionally. "He hasn't been the same," one divulged, on the condition of anonymity. "She'd roll over in her grave if she knew about some of the choices he's been making."

Northman is dismissive of his detractors. "At the end of the day, I'm the one who has to live with the decisions I make. No one else," he says.

(Story continued after the jump)

~0~

There is someone ringing the doorbell, banging on the door, and calling Eric's phone all at once.

"Yeah," he says into the mouthpiece, still half asleep. The banging and bell ringing cease.

"Sir, this is Kenneth, your driver? I'm here to take you to the studio."

Eric glances over at his alarm clock, which he totally forgot to set. "Right, fuck."

"I'm downstairs sir, ready when you are."

"I'll be down in five," Eric croaks and hangs up the phone. He jumps out of bed and rushes into the bathroom. He rifles through the medicine cabinet and drawers, looking for a bottle of pain killers. When he finally locates some, he opens the bottle and shakes out four into his hand. He swallows them with a mouthful of water from the tap. He quickly brushes his teeth and bemoans his appearance in the mirror.

He runs back through his bedroom, grabbing underwear, jeans and a t-shirt and throwing them on quickly. He pulls his shirt over his head as he rushes down the stairs. He slips his feet into a pair of shoes lying by the door. He'll get socks from wardrobe. He throws open the front door to see the driver is waiting by the open back door of a black SUV.

"Sorry man, I overslept," he says, sliding into the vehicle.

The driver makes no further comment.

~0~

Eric flies through the door of the makeup trailer and jumps into his chair. The ladies immediately come over to assess the situation.

"Late night?" asks the makeup girl.

"I forgot to set my alarm," he says sheepishly.

"Right," says the hair dresser, eyeing his bedhead skeptically.

"I know, I look like shit."

"Honey, you still look a million times better than most men. It's disgusting. Just let me work my magic and no one will know how tired you really are," the makeup woman says.

"As long as they don't get within five feet of you," adds the add dresser, waving her hands dramatically in front of her nose. "I can smell the booze coming out your pores."

"That bad huh?"

"As long as you're okay functioning with a hangover, you should be fine."

They all laugh. Except Eric's not hungover. He's pretty sure he's still drunk.

~0~

**Blind Items**

- Which foreign born actor has shown up for work looking worse for wear lately? His makeup artist claims she's lucky she's working with such good genes, or she'd have a hard time hiding his hangovers! It probably doesn't hurt that the camera spends half the time focused on his world class derriere.

~0~

"Eric, we need to release a statement, what do you want it to say?"

"A statement?" he asks. "About what?"

"About your father."

Eric looks clueless, waiting for Pam to elaborate.

"And his wife," she prompts, rolling her eyes. "About the baby they're expecting?"

His draw drops open. "They're expecting a baby?" Another one? Didn't Anne just have a baby, he thinks.

"They announced it yesterday, the press have been contacting me all morning for a for a comment."

"Might have been nice if someone had told me before they took it public," he moans. Thanks Dad.

"Jesus Eric, do you ever check your messages? Jack has been trying to get a hold of you for weeks."

"Oh."

"I thought I'd get your actual response before I put out the standard 'over the moon' declaration," Pam says, drumming her perfectly manicured fingernails against the counter.

"Right, well, uh..."

"Fine, standard 'over the moon' declaration it is," she says impatiently. "But you really need to think of what you're going to say to your father yourself."

Shit. 'You knocked up the wifey again, huh?' hardly seems appropriate.

"Yes, you have to actually talk to him," Pam states with a tone of finality. She knows him so well. "Do you want our statement to be from you and Yvetta, or just yourself?"

Fuck. Eric hates this kind of stuff. Isn't this why he has Pam for a manager, so that he doesn't have to deal with it?

Pam sighs loudly, like she's the most put upon woman on the planet. "I'll handle the media for you, but I refuse to hold your hand while you deal with Daddy!"

"I need a drink," he announces.

Pam snorts.

He pours himself a glass of whatever bottle is out on the counter and takes a sip.

She shakes her head at him. "When you've finished calling your father, we're going to have a chat about the fucking blind item I read this morning."

* * *

**A/N:** This chapter killed me. It's as if a publicist was present during the profile interview and kept refusing to allow certain material to be included. I've tried to make up for it with more Sookie and more silliness. Hopefully you like! Lainey Lui is a real gossip blogger. I find her amusing, and hope she'd get a kick out of being referenced in this story, given her thoughts on ASkars et al.


	7. Chapter 7

**Special double posting in one day. Enjoy! **

**I just realized a bunch of my formatting marks have been removed from my posts - that must make it really annoying to read - and seem even more jumpy than it actually is. I've tried to fix it... sorry about that.**

**Warning:** The shit starts to hit the fan here, folks. Eric is not a nice person in this chapter, just so we're clear.

* * *

"I'll miss you, baby," Yvetta says as they wait for the driver to put her bags in the trunk.

"Me too."

"Maybe you'll come visit me on set next week?" she suggests coquettishly.

"We'll see," Eric answers. He hates waiting in her trailer while she works. It's so boring. He doesn't know why she wants to hang around while he films either.

She frowns.

"Don't be like that," he says. "Pam said I might have to go do that thing..."

"Right," she answers coldly.

The driver has finished loading the car and opens the door for her, ending their conversation.

"Behave," she says, kissing Eric on the cheek.

"Of course," he says with a smile and pats her on the butt. He'll miss it while she's gone.

She gets in the car. She can't help but feel a little sad when she notices that he's already disappeared inside the house before the driver has even had a chance to start the engine.

~0~

When Eric gets home that night, there are several missed calls and texts on his phone.

6:36 p.m. "Hey baby, I'm here. Just wanted to say I got in safe. Flight was horribly turbulent, ugh. Later."

8:04 p.m. Hotel is gorgeous. Tub big enough for both of us. Hope 2 put it 2 use if u visit.

9:57 p.m. "I guess you're out, wanted to say goodnight. You know I hate sleeping without you."

10:30 p.m. Wish u were here, bed's 2 big without u. img attached:

11:54 p.m. "Can't sleep. Miss you. Hope you're not having too much fun without me. Call me when you get in. Love you."

~0~

Blind Items - Which recent award-winner was spotted at an L.A. hotspot plundering kisses from a woman who isn't his fiancée? Witnesses claim they were both in and out of ladies' room powdering their noses all night long, before leaving together at 3AM.

~0~

There is a the sound of breaking glass as the picture sails past Eric's head and crashes to the floor. A smiling picture of baby Eric in his mother's arms lies next to an image of teenage Eric with both his parents.

"No one gave a fuck about you until you met me," Yvetta snarls as she throws more pictures across the room.

Eric ducks the projectiles easily, not spilling a drop of his drink as he dodges out of the way.

"How could you do this to me?" she demands. There are tears streaming down her face as she stands in the living room, looking for other items to toss.

"How could I do this you?" Eric replies. "Newsflash sweetheart: not everything in life is about you!"

"Oh ho ho," she sneers. "Because it's always about you, Eric! You're such a selfish son-of-a-bitch. I hate you!"

"Good, I hate you too!" He downs his drink and throws the glass aside. The floor is already littered with smashed bits of porcelain and crystal, what's one more thing?

"Fucking some woman in a club, Eric? Seriously?"

"Don't think I didn't hear about your late-night meetings with the director."

"I was working, you prick!"

"Working? Is that what you call it?"

She freezes, processing his insinuation. "The coke is making you paranoid, Eric!"

He flops down on the floor and chops out a thick line from the pile of white powder on the table.

"You want to fuck your life up, you want to fuck up your career?" she asks.

He ignores her, snorting up the drug.

"I can't do this," she says. "I can't be with you if you're going to act like this!"

"So don't," Eric shouts back.

"What does that mean?"

"Get the fuck out!"

"Eric! You don't mean that!"

"You heard me, get the fuck out, now!"

"Wait, wait, baby..." Yvetta sobs as she tries to approach him.

"Don't touch me. Just get the fuck out of my face. I don't ever want to see you again."

"I know you're upset, and you're high... you don't mean what you're saying."

"Don't tell me what the fuck I feel or don't feel. Just - get - the - hell - out!"

"Honey, our engagement, the movie," Yvetta pleads.

"Fuck the movie. Fuck the engagement - you putting a ring on your finger and not correcting tabloid speculation is not a proposal. Now get out!"

She starts to punching at his chest, but he grabs her by her upper arms and holds her off.

"You can't... you don't mean that," she insists. She looks ugly, her mascara smeared around her eyes. He wonders if he were to look in the mirror if he looks that ugly too.

"Oh, I mean it. We're through," he says, pushing her towards the door.

"Wait, you can't - all of my things!"

"Send Ginger over tomorrow to get your shit. Now get the fuck off my property!"

Yvetta is nearly hysterical, but he pushes her out of the door and slams it in her face. She spins around after being shoved out and bangs on the door.

"You can't do this to me."

"I love you!"

"Fuck... Eric, just let me back in..."

"You can't dump me, I'm dumping you!"

"No one else will ever put up with your shit, they'll all find out what a loser you are."

"I hate you Eric Northman. Go fuck yourself!" With that final declaration, Yvetta removes herself from the property.

~0~

Media News - **Splitsville!**

**Yvetta Alam** and **Eric Northman** are over ... Media News has learned.

The couple got engaged last year, after meeting on the set of _Dog Days_, due out this spring.

Sources close to the couple tell Media News "it's been done for a while," and they separated quietly, hoping to wait until after the film was released to make a formal announcement.

Friends say it was "not a happy breakup." As for why they split, we're told "they wanted different things out of their relationship."

Interesting choice of words, considering recent reports of Northman's escalating partying and allegations of infidelity. Alam was seen last week at Bar Zero, canoodling with her current _Tidal Wave _director, **Jon England**.

~0~

"I brought the booze, beeyotch!" Lafayette announces gleefully when Sookie opens the door to her apartment. Seeing her expression, he sombers: "Is you cryin?"

She nods and wipes her eyes. "Thanks for coming by."

"What is going on girl?" he asks, following her inside. "When I gots the message to brink drinks, I thought we be throwin a party all up in here! Instead I find you all crying and shit."

"No, definitely not a party."

"So we ain't celebrating the death of the wicked bitch of the west, den?"

"Not quite," Sookie says, shaking her head. "I got fired."

"What?"

"Let go, laid off... whatever. I got my pink-slip today."

"Shee-it, you hated that job anyhow."

"I may have hated it, but I needed it," Sookie points out. "What's this about the wicket bitch of the west?"

"Don't act like you ain't heard," Laf says, wagging his finger in her face. "Yo boyfriend? He be back on the market!"

Sookie laughs. "You thought I'd throw a party because Eric Northman broke up with his piece?"

Lafayette nods.

She smacks him playfully. "I like him, but I'm not that stalkerish!"

Lafayette raises his perfectly shaped eyebrows skeptically. "Mmm-hmmm."

"Besides, she dumped him!" Sookie says. "I could never celebrate another person's broken heart. We'll just have to toast him at my pity party!"

"That job was killing you, I'm glad it's done."

"Oh yeah, are you going to pay my bills until I find work again?" she asks, falling back onto her couch. "What am I going to do?"

"Find some pretty boy to be yo sugardaddy?"

"Sounds like plan, where do I start?"

"Move yo azz to Hollywood?" Lafayette suggests.

"I'll get right on that!"

"I'm sorry, Sook," Laf says, putting an arm around her.

"Let's just hope I hear back from one of other jobs I've applied for soon."

"You will," Lafayatte assures her, pouring out two drinks. "For the rest of the night, let's just forget about that serious stuff and drown our troubles."

"Sounds like a plan," she agrees. She flips on the TV.

Some entertainment news program is on, discussing the Northman-Alam split. The screen is filled with pictures of Eric. Sookie can't tear her eyes away.

"I bet you glad he broke up with that ho, be honest," Laf teases.

She shrugs. "It's not exactly my business."

"Whatever, he's hot. Too bad he straight."

"I'm sure if anyone could convince him, it'd be you, Laf."

"Nah, drugbag cheaters are more your thing," he says, bumping her shoulder with his.

"It's not my thing," she argues. "I think it's really sad and a total waste of his talent."

"That woman was a bad influence."

"Yeah," she agrees. "Still, I kind of feel bad for her, being cheated on sucks."

"Breakups suck."

"Amen to that, sister," Sookie says.

The program cuts to footage of Northman that was supposedly shot the night before, showing an extremely inebriated Eric being helped into a cab.

"What a mess."

"That man just needs the love of a good woman," Laf says dismissively. "And a good swift kick to that fine rear of his."

* * *

**A/N:** Yes, Laf did just dismiss Eric's problems as if they were nothing. No, I don't really think that's all Eric needs. I'm sure it won't hurt, tho. You may have noticed a striking similarity to some real life situations that have been reported in the media. I totally did this on purpose, you are not imagining it.


	8. Chapter 8

_Thanks for tuning in. I hope you're still with me. This one is a monster._

* * *

"Jesus Christ, Eric," Pam admonishes. "Get it together."

Eric sucks in a deep breath and glares at her. She's the one that stormed into his bedroom in the dead of... midday... to wake him up and 'confront him about his issues.'

"Don't get huffy with me," she replies, looking him in dead the eyes. "I've worked too hard for you to throw all this away."

"You don't know what you're talking about," he says.

She smiles at him coldly. It's never a good thing when Pam smiles, period, especially not when she's smiling like the fucking ice queen.

"You kicked Yvetta to the curb, thank goodness, so you're not a total loss," she says. "But all this other stuff: showing up late to work, reeking of booze and not knowing your lines..."

Eric stops listening, but she grabs him by the chin and forces him to look at her. "This whole disappearing into your trailer every twenty minutes crap? Give me a break Eric. Every fucking gossip writer in town knows what you're up to, you think I don't know?"

He groans and hopes the bed will suddenly swallow him up. He hates being dressed down by Pam. It's worse than getting in trouble with his mother. His mother (at least) was a nice lady who loved him. He misses her. Even if she'd probably be standing there, cheering Pam on. Suddenly, he feels overwhelmed with sadness, thinking about how much he misses her. He doesn't remember feeling this way before. Why not? Probably because he was too busy drinking and snorting and fucking the pain away, speaking of which...

"Are you crying?" Pam asks.

"No," he insists, wiping his eyes ineffectually.

"You do not pay me enough to deal with this shit," she mutters, digging through her Birkin for a tissue. "I think you should go out of L.A. for rehab, Utah maybe, Denver? Somewhere far away from here, that's for sure."

Eric nods.

"90 days," she says.

"30," he counters.

She raises an eyebrow.

90 it is then.

~0~

Even though he knows it's futile, Eric tries a last ditch attempt at getting out of the whole rehab thing. As Pam is dropping he offs, he starts fussing. What if people sneak in and take pictures and sell his story to the media? Are the doctors in Bumfuck, Nowhere qualified to handle his problems? Are there werewolves?

"Shut the fuck up and quit whining," she says.

"You're fired!"

Pam just laughs. She knows him too well. The day he fires her is the day she (or he) dies. It's like a pact with the devil - inescapable. Most days, he doesn't mind so much, but today, Pam's driving him nuts.

"Can't I just, like, go to meetings or therapy or get a sober coach or something?"

"If you don't do this, the production company won't renew your contract," she informs him. "They're already writing around you while you're in this place. Do you know how easy it would be to just write you off?"

She looks at him as though daring him to argue.

He doesn't.

"Good boy."

~0~

"Miss Stackhouse? This is Andy Bellefleur, from Bellefleur Home Care Services."

"Hello?" Sookie doesn't remember sending an application to this particular company.

"I was forwarded your resume by my cousin Terry Bellefleur, he works for Fowler Medical Providers," he explains. Fowler is the name of the company Tara works for, Sookie knows that.

"Our company specializes in clients with rehabilitation needs," he goes on. "He knows how difficult it is for us to find qualified practitioners, so when he got your resume; he sent it straight over to me."

"Oh," Sookie says.

"At any rate, I was wondering if you'd be interested in coming in to speak about coming to work for us?"

"That would be great!"

"Excellent!" Andy replies cheerfully. "How does Tuesday, 9 o'clock sound?"

"Fine."

~0~

The meeting with Andy is surprisingly businesslike. It's been a while since Sookie interviewed for a position, and she'd done a practicum at the hospital, so they were already familiar with her work. Her meeting at Bellefleur was more like she imagined an interview for an office job would be. She wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. For starters, they met at the Fowler offices.

"Bellefleur is based in California," Andy explains. "We're looking to expand."

Sookie nods, that's fine. She's done some research on the company and they seem legit.

"While companies like Fowler provide care services for all kinds of patients, Bellefleur specializes in clients requiring rehabilitation."

She's knows that's true. Tara has been working for Fowler for six months, and most of her stories are about changing bedpans for ancient seniors and helping diabetic old ladies tend to their feet. Tara is a geriatric nurse, so it makes sense. Sookie specialized in neurological disorders, so she understands what Andy is getting at.

"Would you be willing to relocate?" he asks.

That would depend on the financial incentive, Sookie thinks, but doesn't say. "Possibly," she replies.

"We have people who are willing to pay top dollar for their care, and we're looking to offer them the top care providers in the industry."

By the end of the interview, Sookie knows that the job is hers, if she wants it.

"I'll think about everything we discussed, Mr. Bellefleur," she says as she shakes Andy's hand. What she wants to do is run home and call Tara and Lafayette for an emergency meeting.

"I'll look forward to your call."

~0~

"It sounds like a great opportunity, Sook," Tara says.

Lafayette nods in agreement.

"You don't think it's a little crazy to move to California for work?"

Tara and Lafayette are staring at her like she's the crazy one.

"What?"

"Present company excluded, of course, what the hell is keeping you here?" Tara asks.

Sookie shrugs. She looks around her tiny apartment.

"Girl, we love you, and we'll miss you," Lafayette says. "But you'd be crazy not to take this job. Hell, I'm considering taking up nursing just so I can apply for this job!"

"You think so?" Sookie asks, uncertain.

"If you don't take this job, I'm going to stop being your friend, so you might as well go on and accept the offer," Tara threatens.

Sookie grins.

"I guess you two better start planning my moving party then!"

~0~

Blind Items - **Going to the Dogs**

Which upcoming release is expected to be a big flop? There'll be no publicity tour - the co-stars can't stand the sight of each other - and one of them won't be out of rehab in time. "That's one red carpet I'd pay to be on!" says one studio publicist.

~0~

Eric loathes every minute of rehab. It's boring. The days are long and there is nothing to do but go to group therapy sessions and individual therapy sessions. Everyone wants him to talk about his feelings and his family. Eric doesn't feel like talking about his family, and feels even less like talking about anything.

When he's not in therapy, there's nothing to do but sit alone and think. Eric doesn't want to think, that's one of the reasons he found drugs so appealing: he didn't have to think about everything all the time. He especially hates thinking about his feelings and his family. It reminds him of what an asshole his father is. That makes him think about all the ways he's messed up his own relationships. That makes him think about how similar he is to his father, which he really doesn't want to think about, because that means he's an asshole too. That makes him feel unhappy. Being unhappy makes him want to have a drink and not think about it, only he's in rehab and they really discourage that sort of thing.

It's not that he doesn't recognize that he has a problem. He's not in denial of his addiction. He just doesn't want to face the veritable shit storm of reality that he knows is waiting for him.

This place isn't helping. In fact, it's making him want to use.

~0~

"Good work today everyone, thanks," says the doctor, looking around the room at his patients. Most of them look zoned out and emotionally exhausted. They all rise from their seats, eager to leave the group therapy room.

"Eric, do you have a minute?"

Eric looks over at the doctor, nonplussed.

"I just wanted to talk to you about the upcoming family day. I noticed you haven't listed any guests yet."

Eric shrugs.

"May I ask why?"

"There's no one to invite."

The doctor looks at him skeptically.

"My mother is dead and I dumped my fiancée."

"What about your father?" The Doctor looks at his notes, "It says here you have a sibling?"

"Half-brother," Eric replies, placing particular emphasis on the half. "What about them?"

"Have you considered inviting them?"

"Not really," he answers. "I haven't really talked to my father in years and my brothers not even three, so he's hardly worth the invitation, Doc."

"Often, the source of our addiction is connected to disconnections in our personal lives. Many patients and their families can find it healing -"

Eric cuts the doctor off, yelling, "I don't give a shit what other people find healing!"

The doctor raises his hands in supplication, his tone soothing. "That's fine Eric, I was just asking. You don't have to invite anyone you don't want to... but I'd like you to consider it. It might be beneficial for your recovery."

Eric turns on his heel and walks out.

~0~

"Honey, we're home!"

Anne wakes through the garage into the kitchen of her home, holding her son's hand. When she receives no answer, she calls out again, moving through the house.

"Jack? We're back - can you come help bring in the parcels from the car?"

The little boy lets go of her hand, distracted by a toy.

"Jack, honey?" she calls. She spots a puddle of vomit on the floor and makes a disgusted face. "Jack, are you sick?"

She senses something is off. "Ivar, why don't you go watch some cartoons, okay?"

He nods and wanders over to the television.

"Stay there sweetie, okay?"

Anne moves to the bottom of the staircase, where she finds another puddle of vomit. She heads up to the second floor. She follows along the hall to a double door and opens it wide, revealing the master bedroom.

"Jack?"

She walks into the room and gasps when she sees Jack lying on the floor. Rushing to his side, she shakes him. When he doesn't respond she grabs the phone of the nightstand and calls 911.

"911 Emergency - Fire, Ambulance, Police?"

"Ambulance, please!"

~0~

Anne sits in the hospital waiting room. Her son is lying down on the chair next to her, his head in her lap. He is sleeping, despite all the bustle and hubbub around him. She runs her hands though over her belly as she passes the time. She has no idea how long she's been sitting there when a doctor emerges, calling her name.

"Mrs. Northman?"

"Yes," she says. She moves gently, trying to extricate herself from her son's grip without waking him. She rises, turning to the doctor with a worried expression on her face.

His own expression reveals little, beyond the fact that he's tired and not looking forward to this conversation.

"Your husband has had a stroke," he says, cutting to the chase. "I can't tell you the extent of the damages until he wakes up, but you need to be prepared."

Anne nods to indicate she's listening.

"Because we don't know how long your husband was out before you found him, there is a possibility of brain damage and permanent paralysis."

Anne attempts to stifle a sob. The doctor pats her arm sympathetically.

"On the bright side, he could be fine. We can't say anything for sure just yet."

* * *

**A/N:** Well, dear reader, what are your thoughts?


	9. Chapter 9

_It's short. I apologize. (I did give you double posting just a day ago, so be gentle.) If the chapters had names, I might have called this one, "When Eric met Sookie."_

* * *

Eric offers to go visit his father in the hospital, but both Pam and the center's doctors put the kibosh on that idea pretty quickly. Leaving now will put his recovery at risk.

Jack's doctors still have no idea how much permanent damage has been done. He's suffering from paralysis on his left side. His speech and memory are affected. He's still pretty out of it. He's not ready to go home yet, currently needing round the clock care. Even if Anne wasn't pregnant, she's in no position to provide the level of assistance her husband needs. They are looking into different rehabilitation facilities and services.

Eric feels kind of guilty that Anne has to go through this alone. She's a young mother, dealing with a toddler, suffering bouts of morning sickness from her pregnancy. She shouldn't have to worry about changing her husband's diapers when she's till changing those of her children. He asks Pam to help Anne find whatever assistance she needs, even offering to pay for it.

Even though the news of his father's health is terrible, it awakens something in Eric, something that his therapists claim will help him deal with his personal demons. He's not sure if he believes it, but he participates much more actively in the program.

Pam even tells him she's proud of him, which he's fairly certain is a first.

~0~

"What are your plans when you leave here?" the doctor asks.

"It'll be during hiatus," he says. "I had a few things lined up before, but I'm pretty sure they're gone now." Insurance companies charge a premium to bond drug addicts. It's an extra cost a small production can't usually afford and a large production doesn't want to deal with.

"When was the last time you took a break from work?"

Eric isn't sure. Not since he started _First Recon_. He's taken the odd vacation here and there, but the most recent ones were exercises in hedonism, hardly relaxing.

"It might be good for you to take a break and reconnect with your friends and family," the doctor suggests. "Is there a place you could go and spend some time, without the temptation of drugs and alcohol?"

There is. Except going there would involve asking his father's permission - or Anne's, now - if they still own the place. Maybe he can convince Pam to ask on his behalf?

~0~

"You owe me big time for this," Pam says, after she agrees to talk to Eric's wife on his behalf.

How bad could it be? A pair of Louboutins? It'll be worth whatever the price, he's sure.

~0~

California is much different than Sookie expects. First off, it's not all L.A. There's San Francisco and San Diego and the mountains and wine country and it's beautiful. She's living in the L.A. part of the state of course, that's where her work is. Fortunately, Los Angeles is not all Hollywood.

Work keeps her busy. It pays way better than the hospital ever did, and she can work regular daytime hours if she wants. She can make three times what she made per hour if she takes a night shift. Since she was doing it anyway, and the money is so good, she's willing to do it from time to time. The cost of leaving here is a lot higher.

She's got clients all over the city. It's interesting and stimulating and she feels happy about her job for the first time in a long while. She's lonely though. She hasn't had a chance to make new friends.

She still does her Sunday night _First Recon_ viewing party with Tara and Lafayette, via the internet. It's not quite the same as being there, but it's better than nothing.

~0~

"A road trip?"

"Yes," Pam sighs.

"To the lake house?"

"Yes, Eric, to the lake house."

"Can he even do that in his condition?"

"His doctors actually think it could be good for him."

"Oh." Eric wonders if his father needs different doctors.

"It's just a few days," Pam says.

Eric's not sure he wants to even go there anymore.

"It's too late to say no," Pam informs him over the phone. "He's already got in his head that you're going to do this. You know how he is once he has his heart set on something."

~0~

Eric's been out of rehab for one day. He's been back home long enough to do laundry and get himself packed to go. Well, Pam got him packed to go.

"Take lots of pictures," Pam instructs. "And write down all your thoughts, all of them." She has worked out a deal with some magazine to publish his travel diary. He really doesn't want to, but the woman has his balls, apparently.

Eric huffs. "Why did I agree to do this?"

"Because you wanted to go to the lake house," Pam answers.

"I remember that part, but why did I agree to the rest of your conditions?"

She smiles. Eric kicks himself mentally. He knows that Pam smiling is never a good thing, but he never learns. "Because you have fuck all job prospects and you need to reconnect with your family?"

"Right... that.

"Eric, you have been out of the public eye for 3 months. You won't be back on television for another few months. You'll fade out of their memory if you don't do something to stay in it," she says. "Something positive!"

He knows she's right. The drinking and drugging and running around took a toll on more than just his body and mind. That saying about no such thing as bad publicity? Not true. Especially for an actor with his perceived level of fame and talent. He doesn't want to be known for being a Hollywood bad boy; he wants to be a working actor. He had his fun in the sun, and now he has to pay the piper. If that means writing about a road trip with his estranged father for a bunch of middle-aged women, that's what he's going to do. Atonement - maybe that's what they should call the article.

"I think this will be good for you, and the publicity will be great - father and son brought together again by tragedy. Maybe you can write a book and go on Oprah," his manager goes on. Lovely to see that she never loses her business edge even when he's facing personal crisis.

"I'm not going to write a fucking book," he says. "And hasn't Oprah's been off the air for a while now?"

"No, she's got that _Next Chapter_ show, now."

"Whatever, you can forget it."

"Fine, we'll get someone else to write the book. I wish you'd agreed to let a camera crew come with."

When she sees his horrified expression, she cackles. "You are too easy!"

The doorbell rings, and Eric looks relieved. "They're here, which means this conversation is over, thank God."

"Can't you at least try to make the best of it? You might even have fun," Pam sneers.

~0~

Eric opens the door to find a petite curvy blonde. There is a navy blue minivan parked behind her on the driveway.

"Eric?" the woman asks, a blush colouring her cheeks.

Pam has joined Eric at the door and is staring at the blonde ravenously. Maybe that's why she's so nervous; Pam does have that affect on people.

"That's me," Eric replies.

"Hi," the woman says, holding her hand out to shake. "I'm Sookie."

* * *

**A/N:** I said they'd meet. I never said they'd speak. *ducks flying objects*


	10. Chapter 10

_You'll have to forgive Eric here, he's been a little spoiled by the fame. He'll get over it soon, I'm sure._

* * *

Eric regards Sookie blankly.

"I'm here to pick you up," she says.

"You're not my father's driver," Eric observes.

"No, I'm his nurse."

"The nurse is picking me up?"

"In this case, the nurse is also the driver," Sookie explains. Her tone suggests she's concerned Eric might be a bit... slow. She's definitely not as nervous as she was. "It seemed silly to have a driver when I could take us."

"Oh," Eric says dumbly, stepping out the door. He hadn't realized the nurse would be coming with them.

"Where's all your stuff?" Sookie asks, looking at his empty hands.

"Inside," he says, stepping aside to let her by.

She stays where she is, staring at him expectantly. "You going to go get it, or what?"

Pam snorts.

"Well, uh, I'll just go get my bags," he says, turning back into the house.

Pam follows behind him, laughing once they can no longer be seen from the door.

"What?" he hisses.

"You were actually considering telling the nurse to go get your bags, weren't you?" She giggles. "This is priceless, I need my camera. The great Eric Northman, carrying his own bags."

"Shut up, Pam," he says, as he hefts a strap over his shoulder. Whenever the studio sends a driver, they carry his stuff. When he goes to a hotel, they carry his stuff. At the airport, someone carries his stuff. He pays them, of course. It's not his fault he's not used to carrying his own stuff. He can do it; he just didn't know he needed to. "Just be thankful I'm not making you do this."

"Hey, I'm your manager, not your personal assistant," she says, un-intimidated.

Eric ignores her and walks out of the house. He follows Sookie to the back of the truck where he dumps his stuff on the ground. He heads around the side of the van bringing only a backpack with him.

Sookie stares after him before sighing and loading his bags into the back. She glances over at Pam who grins widely and waves. This is going to be fun, she thinks.

~0~

Eric stands by the large door of the minivan, waiting to be let in.

"You're riding shotgun," Sookie tells him, after she has the van all loaded.

"I am?" Eric frowns.

She frowns back. When he doesn't move she goes over to the passenger side door and opens it. "Yeah, your father is sort of stretched out over the backseat... he's more comfortable like that."

"Oh," he says and climbs into the seat. He waits for her to shut the door, but she doesn't. She's looking at him like he's nuts. He pulls the door closed.

She walks around to the driver's side and climbs in. While she's putting on her seatbelt Eric glances into the back. His father is lying there, sleeping. He looks pale and weak.

"Let's get this show on the road," Sookie says cheerfully and smiles over at Eric. The smile changes her whole face, like turning on a light, a very bright light that Eric doesn't feel ready to see this early in the day.

"Great," Eric mutters under his breath. Looks like Sookie is one of those perky types.

Sookie turns out of Eric's driveway before asking, "Did you want to stop somewhere and grab a coffee? I would have picked one up on the way over, but I didn't know what you'd want..."

"I'm fine thanks," he cuts in, stopping her mid-ramble.

"Good."

They drive in awkward silence for a few minutes before she speaks again.

"I was wondering if you might be willing to split the driving? I figured we could switch every few hours?"

Eric doesn't look at her, focusing on something out of the window. "Sure," he answers vaguely. "Wake me up when it's my turn." He curls into his seat and closes his eyes. He misses seeing Sookie's eye roll.

"Okay then," she whispers to herself. Colour me unimpressed, Mr. Northman, she thinks.

~0~

Eric wakes while they are stopped at a gas station. Neither Sookie nor his father is in the vehicle. He gets out and stretches his long legs, glancing around. He sees Sookie and his father exiting the store. His father is in a wheelchair. Eric freezes in place. Sookie, who has been chattering away to Jack looks up and sees him.

"It's alive!" she proclaims, winking at Jack.

"Yeah," Eric says, running his hand through his hair. He usually has to keep it in a buzz cut for the show, but he's been letting it grow while he was in rehab. He had it long before that. He decides he likes this length best, in between.

Sookie pushes his father to a stop right in front of him. He looks down at his dad, who looks back at him almost defiantly.

"Eric," Jack mumbles softly.

"Father."

They stare at each other for a moment, saying nothing.

His dad struggles to speak, like his mouth isn't working properly. "You look good," he says. It comes out in daunting wheezy breaths.

Eric is shocked. "You look..."

"Yeah, yeah," Jack mutters dismissively.

"I'm glad you're awake," Sookie says, cutting through the tension. "I could use a hand getting this back into the car." She gestures at his father, or the wheelchair, maybe both. He's not sure. He doesn't like the idea of this woman referring to his father as a thing.

He watches while she goes through a series of coordinated steps to lift his father out of the wheelchair and situate him in the back seat. He waits for her to direct him, but she doesn't. Once Jack's all buckled in she folds the chair and asks Eric to help load it into the back of the van, which he does. It's heavier than he expected.

"Thanks" she says as they finish. "I can do it on my own, but it's so much easier with two people."

Eric doesn't reply, just holds his hand out for the keys. He figures it's his turn to drive. He gets in and adjusts the seat and mirrors while Sookie fiddles with his father in the back, getting him adjusted. When she finishes she moves up to the front.

"Just follow the GPS, it's all programmed in there," she says.

Eric starts driving.

"So, is it better or worse than you expected?" Sookie asks.

Eric doesn't know how to respond. He knew, intellectually, that his father had a stroke. He'd been told about language and memory problems and paralysis, but that was when his father hadn't even woken up yet. He knew they'd hired a nurse to help Anne out at home, but he hadn't really considered the extent of assistance his father would need. Someone that came over and did physio a few times per week? It hadn't occurred to him that a functional stroke patient was someone who needed every one of their personal needs met by another person. He knows that's stupid. Quadriplegics are considered functional and they can't dress themselves. Shit. Why didn't he ask more questions? When Anne and Pam told him that the doctor's had said his father would be able to go on this trip, he'd assumed that meant he was back to normal. Obviously not. Yes, yes, it makes an ass out of you and me. He really was a dumb ass sometimes. Fuck.

"He's really come a long way in a short time," Sookie tells him. "It's pretty incredible. Though I think it's mostly because he's so gosh darned stubborn."

"He was fully paralyzed on his left side. He's got some use of his hand now, so that's great. He'd lost most of his language kills, but he's getting those back. You'll probably still find him difficult to understand. After a while you'll get used to it and it will be easier for you. You're probably going to notice he's a lot slower to process things than he used to be. Some people find it frustrating at first, go easy on him. If you're frustrated, imagine how he must feel. It's taken a lot of rehab to get him to where he is now, and it's going to take months more... but you should be proud of what he's done so far."

Eric glances at his father in the rear-view mirror. He's dozing. He looks like a shell of the person he once was, and this nurse is saying he's doing exceptionally well? Holy fuck, Eric thinks.

~0~

They pull into a motel around six o'clock that evening. Sookie informs him the reservations have already been made for two rooms. She spares him the agony of dealing with the desk by taking care of getting the keys for him. He helps by getting the wheelchair out and loading his father into it.

The rooms are connected by a door in the middle. Eric isn't entirely sure who is going in which room, so he waits until Sookie places her suitcase on the bed next to the bed they've put his father in.

"I figured you'd prefer not to be disturbed in the middle of the night," she says, handing him a key. "He needs to be turned every few hours, or taken to the washroom."

"There's a diner across the way," she says. "I was going to go get some takeout, shall I bring you back something too?"

"Nah," he says. "I'm not hungry right now."

He walks between the two rooms, shutting the door between them, but leaving it unlocked. He puts his suitcase down by the bed. He glances out the window. There's the diner Sookie mentioned, and next to that, there's a bar.

Eric lies down on the bed and flips on the TV, hopeful that there's something decent on.

~0~

Two hours later, Eric sits at the bar, staring at the glass of whiskey in front of him.

"You going to drink that?" someone asks, slipping onto the stool next to him.

"Maybe," he says, turning in his seat. His smile drops into a frown as he realizes the buxom woman who has joined him is Sookie.

"I'm not sure that's such a great idea," she says, looking pointedly at his beverage.

"Why don't you mind your own fucking business?"

"It is my business," she replies calmly.

He scoffs. "I fail to see how that could be true."

"Your father is my business."

"So?"

"Stress has an adverse affect on your father. It's my job to make sure that your father experiences as little stress as possible," she explains. "Anything that might cause your father stress is my business. You falling off the wagon on your second day out of rehab might be stressful for your father; therefore, your drinking is absolutely my business."

Eric makes a noise that can only be described as "Pfft."

Sookie's pretty sure he'd stick out his tongue at her if it wouldn't make him look like a total idiot in front the other patrons. She giggles. She can't help herself. Eric glares at her.

"You actually look kind of cute when you're acting like an immature brat," she says. "In a sort of pathetic way, of course."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're a bitch?" Eric asks.

She pretends to think it over. "Yep. I've also been called a nag, a cow and a cunt. Sorry, Northman, but bitch just ain't gonna cut it."

He scowls. He can't even insult this crazy lady. He throws a ten down on the bar and storms back to his room.

Sookie grabs the glass of whiskey and empties it in one gulp. When she realizes the bartender has been watching their exchange, she shrugs.

"I didn't want him to drink it," she says. "Doesn't mean I wanted it to go to waste!"

The bartender shakes his head, completely confused. She leans across the bar. "If that guy I was with comes back in here," she says. "Don't serve him."

She tosses a twenty down on the counter and leaves.

* * *

**A/N:** These two are off two a wonderful start, aren't they?


	11. Chapter 11

_To those of you who have taken the time to read and comment, I want to say thank you. You may not like what I've been doing, and whether I agree or disagree with your assessments I am so glad you have taken the time and effort to read my story and share your thoughts with me. I really do take your criticisms to heart. That does not mean I will do what you suggest, but I have heard you. I could go into great detail about reasons for doing certain things, but I'll spare you that agony. I will say that all fiction comes from true experiences... whether they belong to the writer, or the writer's friend, or a historical event. Sometimes, you will find connections that are not even there. For example, I assure you that not one sentence of this piece was ever inspired by anything involving Lindsay Lohan. There have been drug addicts of note that destroyed their careers long before her existence, and there will be many more. That is the only thing I will say about that. Again, thanks for your readership and support._

* * *

That next morning, Sookie mentions nothing about their exchange the night before. She opens the door with a bright smile and invites him in. Eric is relieved. Even if he's loathe to admit it, he knows that she was right. He's glad she's looking out for his father, even if it is fucking annoying.

Jack is far more alert today. He doesn't say much, but he stays awake the whole trip. Eric watches his father looking out the windows. He sees the old man's smile growing larger the closer to the lake they get.

When they stop at the grocery store in town, Jack insists he'll be fine in the car. He assures both nurse and son that he'll call if he needs anything. He rolls his eyes at their concern and turns on his iPod before they've even shut their doors. Eric follows Sookie into the store. She pulls a list from her purse.

"Do we need a basket or a cart?" he asks.

"Cart please," she says. "Do you need a quarter?"

He shakes his head and proceeds to procure a shopping cart. She watches him with more interest than he thinks the action deserves, but he doesn't remark on it.

"I'm impressed," she says, when he returns to her side, cart in tow.

"I might have people do a lot of things for me, but I've been grocery shopping before."

"Honestly, I'm amazed when any man knows how to get the cart," she laughs. "My brother has lived on his own for nearly fifteen years, and I don't think he's even used a basket!"

He follows her down the aisles, grabbing for things on the top shelf when she can't reach. She asks him about his food preferences, and he informs her he's not that picky.

"You're going to cook for us too?"

"Yep."

"Driving, cooking, nursing, is there anything you don't do?"

"I won't clean up your mess or make your bed," she teases.

"Good to know."

~0~

Gossip Daily - **Romantic Getaway?**

**Eric Northman** and a mystery blonde were spotted buying groceries near Josephine County, Oregon. Our sources say that the pair looked liked a domesticated couple. "He pushed the cart and carried the groceries like a true gentleman," said one witness. The Northman family is known to have a vacation home in the area.

~0~

They arrive at the lake house late that morning. As he helps unload the vehicle, Eric looks around, assessing what has changed. He hasn't been here in years, since before his parents divorced. The house looks the same, but the trees are a little taller. Across the lake, where they had only one neighbor, there are now two homes.

Jack Northman bought the place not long after Eric was born. He'd been shooting a film locally and fallen in love with the area. He purchased a tiny parcel of land on the lake, knocked down the old cabin that had been there, and built their lake house. In the summers, if he shot a movie in the States, no matter where, they would all stop at the house for a week or two before returning to Stockholm. It was a family tradition.

There was a little office, lined with floor to ceiling bookshelves, for Freya to sit and write. Eric and his father would spend their days fishing and swimming and playing in the water. Eric has some great memories of this place.

There is a plaque by the front door that reads: "Man får ta seden dit man kommer."

"What does it say?" Sookie asks.

"You should adopt the custom where you are," Eric translates. "When in Rome..."

"And what are the customs here?"

Eric shrugs. "Mi casa es su casa?"

~0~

Eric is pleased to note that the place is already cleaned and aired out. He guesses Pam must have arranged for that... or Anne. When he was little, the people who lived across the lake used to take care of the property. He wonders if they still do. They had a hot daughter, once upon a time.

Sookie bustles about, familiarizing herself with the place and unpacking all of his father's equipment. He helps unload the car and manoeuvre his father inside. They sure needed to bring a lot of stuff, like a shower bench, special pillows, and a million other things he doesn't recognize. He's thankful that the main bedrooms are all located on the ground floor.

He drags his own stuff up the ladder into the loft area where he sleeps. When he comes back down, he finds Sookie in the kitchen, puttering.

"I didn't know what to expect," she says.

He's not sure if she's referring to the presence of the dishwasher or him. "Anne didn't tell you?" he asks. It seems like a suitable answer to both options.

"Anne has never been here," she informs him.

"No?"

"Nope."

"Oh."

"When we discussed coming up here, she told me she'd never been."

"Did she say why not?" It's a beautiful place. Seeing as they're mostly located in the states and could get here more often, he's surprised they don't use it all the time.

Sookie shrugs. "Something about this place being your Mom's."

Eric can't argue with that. For nearly thirty years, this place was hers. They spent quite a bit of time here - his mother writing several books and plays while they stayed at the lake. The office is still probably full of her notebooks and things. He pushes the thought away.

~0~

"When was the last time you were up here?" she asks.

He tries to recall. He was in his late twenties he thinks. It was a trip with just his mom. He can't remember why his father wasn't with them, he was probably working. That seems strange to him though, usually, if he came here with one parent, it was his Dad. He doesn't want to think about it, much less talk about it with Sookie.

"Must have been a great place to come when you were young?"

"Yeah, we had some good times," he admits.

"Then what happened?"

"I grew up."

~0~

The lake house is exactly that, a house. Sookie had expected a cabin perhaps, something rustic, not the modern Scandinavian design she was greeted with. By the lake, it looked and felt as though they were in the middle of nowhere. She supposed she shouldn't have been so surprised; they were only twenty minutes from a small town with decent shops. It wasn't a big city, but it was bigger than the small Louisiana town she hailed from.

The house itself was equipped with most modern conveniences. The only thing it was missing was satellite television service and wifi - two things she could live without for a few weeks. She still has cell service. Her phone chimes, announcing the arrival of a text.

Lafayette: Who be the fine bitch I see with Eric Northman?

Following the attached link opens a small blurb on a gossip site about her shopping trip that morning with Eric. The photo quality is poor; probably someone's cell phone at a distance, but it's obviously her.

Sookie: That would be me.

The phone rings a moment later.

"Lucy, you got some 'splainin' to do!" says her friend, by way of greeting. "WTF you doing with him?"

"Working."

"What? Since when he have a stroke?"

"Well, he didn't, but his Dad did."

"And you didn't see fit to mention this before now?"

"Tara knew," Sookie says. "About the Jack part... I thought she'd tell you."

"Me and Miss Tara are going to have a talk about this..."

"Maybe she didn't tell you because she didn't think you'd care."

"I care about hearing my baby girl is meeting that fine piece of man," he replies.

"Ah, well, I told her I didn't think that was ever going to happen, so..."

"What you mean, isn't you with him right now?"

"Yes... but when I got hired I got the impression that was never going to happen."

"Why the hell not?"

"I can't really talk about it... I signed a confidentiality clause."

"Fuck that confidentiality shit, spill!"

Sookie sighs, determining what she should tell her friend. "I get the sense they aren't really close."

"But in all those interviews they always going on about each other," Laf argues.

"Yeah, celebrities are known for being honest in interviews. They would never lie to make themselves sound good, would they?"

"Hmm... well, I'm still jelly as hell you meet him."

"Mmm."

"Not like you thought?"

"He's right out of rehab, I'm a stranger..."

"What he like?" Lafayette prompts impatiently.

"Jack? He's a sweetheart," she answers, deliberately messing with him.

She can hear Lafayette slamming his hands down in frustration. "Not Jack, Eric!"

"Oh, him... well..."

"Hot? Fine? A giant dick with a giant dick?"

"I don't know about the last part, but yes to the first three."

"Shee-it!"

"You said it."

"You going to find out about that last part?"

Sookie laughs. "Hell to the no."

"That's a damned shame!"

"I guess. It doesn't matter. I'm here to help Jack."

"Well hookah, it makes for a good story."

"True."

"Girl, you was papped."

"I know."

"You best watch out - you gonna be famous now!"

Sookie rolls her eyes. "Yeah, right."

* * *

**A/N:** Just a little heads up here: Until now I've been posting stuff that was mostly already written. From here on out I'll be posting as a write. I won't be offended if you choose to take a break and wait until the story is completed and I've revised; now is the time to jump ship. If you do stay, please be aware that you will be getting the story without revision. It will be the roughest of the rough, not at all a polished or finished piece of work. I'm posting as I go as a means of forcing myself to finish my work. As a result, the pacing may get worse. It may jump around and not make any sense. Thank you for your understanding at this time.


	12. Chapter 12

When Eric appears in the kitchen for breakfast, he finds himself alone. He hears the shower running, so he guesses Sookie's helping his father bathe, though he's rather surprised when both his father and Sookie emerge from the bathroom, both with wet hair and in robes.

Sookie pushes his father's wheelchair up to the table. "Could you get your father something to eat while I go change real quick?" she asks. "Some yogurt maybe?"

Eric nods. He grabs a single serving carton out of the fridge and fetches a spoon. "Can you feed yourself?" he asks, unsure what his father is able to do.

Jack nods, holding out his hand for the cutlery. He stares at the lid forlornly for a moment, until Eric opens it and places it down on the table. He sits down across from his father.

"You shower together?" he asks. That seems unorthodox.

"Bathing suit," Jack shrugs, like it's no big thing. He tries scooping the contents from the cup, but the container moves with the spoon, scooting from one spot to another. Eventually he tries a different approach, simply dipping his spoon into the tub then into his mouth. It works.

Eric considers how difficult it would be to lather up and soap down a man his father's size, sitting or standing. You might get just as wet outside of the tub as in it. Maybe wearing a suit and getting the shower sort of makes sense. "Do you wear a bathing suit too?" he asks.

Jack shakes his head and waggles his eyebrows suggestively.

Eric screws up his face. "Boy, do I feel sorry for her."

"She doesn't complain," Jack smirks.

"She doesn't complain about what?" Sookie asks as she enters the kitchen, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, her hair swept back in a ponytail.

"Having to see my old man's old man penis," Eric says.

"I'm a nurse, so of course, I don't sexualize these things," she says as she winks at Jack. "However, if I did, I'm pretty sure I'd say your old man's old man penis is just fine."

Jack preens a little.

Eric's not sure if he thinks it's appropriate for a nurse to joke about such things with the patient. It occurs to him that she's been bathing his father for several months now. Bathing suit or not, she's been seeing his dick on the regular. One probably needs to have a pretty good sense of humour to cope with such things. He thinks about the kind of man his father is. His Dad would probably be the first one to crack a joke. He'd probably encourage Sookie and Anne to do the same. Come to think of it, if Eric was sixty and he had two attractive younger women who were willing to touch his dick without puking, he'd probably tolerate a joke or two. It's better than crying, he supposes.

Sookie places a shaving kit down on the counter. "I figured there's more space in here to do this," she says to Jack.

When she notices how Jack is dipping his spoon into the cup and then into his mouth, she suppresses a grin. "Hey Eric," she says. "Your dad still has limited use of his other hand, so he can't stabilize the container to scoop stuff out of it by himself. If you put it in a bowl, it's heavier and doesn't move around as much... so it's easier for him to feed himself."

Oh. Right.

~0~

Eric watches as Sookie shaves his father. She does it old school, with a straight razor and a brush. She moves the blade with singular focus over his father's face in efficient, neat swipes.

"I didn't realize nursing also required the skills of a barber," he observes.

"I learned this for a boyfriend, actually," she confesses shyly. "It just happened to come in handy when I started working."

"It does give the closest shave," he says as he wipes his hand over his own jaw. He hasn't shaved in a few weeks. Years ago he'd dated a makeup artist who knew how to give a straight shave. She'd made it an erotic, exotic and intimate experience. The trust involved in letting someone have a blade so close to one's throat, their body pressed against yours... He found he was no longer able to enjoy a trip to the barber, for fear of embarrassing himself.

"If you're nice, maybe I'll give you a shave later," she offers.

His dick hardens at the thought. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. She smiles at him. He can't tell if she's messing with him or not.

~0~

Throughout the morning, Sookie's phone chimes over and over.

"Sorry," she apologizes. "It seems everyone who knows me is trying to get in touch today."

"Everything's okay?" Jack asks.

"Yeah," she blushes. "I think it's because of the whole Eric thing..."

"What?" Eric demands, immediately suspicious. "Have you been telling people about me?" He's angry, rising out of his seat.

"Eric," Jack says. "Calm!"

"Are you serious?" Sookie cries. "I've signed a confidentiality agreement, alright? I'm not telling anyone anything."

"You'd better not," he says, voice threatening.

"Sookie would never," Jack insists.

Eric is anxious and agitated. It's clear to Sookie that he's got a temper and she doesn't want to be on the wrong side of it. She needs him to stay cool for the sake of his own sobriety, her sanity and for his father's health. She blows out a long breath to release some of her own tension.

"Someone at the grocery store sold a picture," she explains. "It was on the web yesterday afternoon, anyone with eyes and an internet connection could see it."

"Fucking smartphones," Eric mutters.

Jack laughs. "It was easier before such things."

"I think it's pretty natural that people are curious why I'm suddenly in the tabloids. My friends are cool, but I'm not surprised people are suddenly trying to find out the dirt. That's why the gossip industry exists, right?" she says. "I'm being respectful of your privacy, of course, but you need to understand that it's actually _my life_ that's being impacted right now, not yours."

She has a point. Her picture wouldn't have been splashed all over if she hadn't been seen with him.

"We cool?" she asks.

"Yeah."

~0~

While his father is having a nap, Eric joins Sookie outside on the deck.

"Why is it that sometimes he seems so out of it, and others he seems fine?"

"The meds," Sookie says. "It's a real bitch to get the dosages right."

Makes sense, he supposes. It's like the fine balance between pleasantly tipsy and intoxicated, between being coked up and coked out: a razor's edge. This reminds him he was a total jerk this morning.

"About before..."

"It's fine Eric," she says. "I get it."

He stares out at the water thoughtfully.

"I'm here if you need to talk," she offers.

That's the first time he's heard someone say that in a long time and he thinks she actually means it. Probably because of her job and all.

"What got you interested in nursing?" he asks.

"I've just always wanted to take care of people," she answers.

"I think having to bathe people and dress them would be the worst thing ever," he says.

"I feel the same way about the idea of pretending to be someone else all day."

"Touché."

~0~

Eric can't recall when he last spent any quantity of time with someone who wasn't in the business. Aside from the people in rehab, of course, and they were all focused on talking about their recovery and shit. One of the nice things about Sookie, Eric discovers, is that she doesn't want to talk to him about any of that stuff. She doesn't want to talk about acting, or getting ahead in her career. She doesn't talk to him about how she's building her image, of how she needs to spend hours in the closet getting ready. She doesn't need to convince some designer why she'd be the perfect face for their brand. She doesn't ask him about what projects he's working on hoping to find a way to use her connections to him. Well, if she does, she's so subtle about it he can't tell.

In Hollywood, there is no one who is really 'safe' to talk to. Everyone wants to sell you something, or pitch their script, or get your help. They might sell your secrets, or blackmail you. There were a few people around who could probably be trusted, but you couldn't know why they were talking to you. He never felt like he could speak to the crew about anything serious. They were all busy doing their jobs, trying to get ahead. They've probably all been told not to talk to the talent anyhow. His co-stars, some of them are okay. They don't have to like each other, they just have to show up and act like it. They're busy with their own stuff.

Life on a set isn't very real, he realizes. It's very artificial, from the lights to the plants to the windows. It's all fake, every last bit of it. The people are nice to you not because they like you or respect you, but because they're frightened for their own jobs, or they're paid to be nice to you. You can get people fired for looking at you wrong, if you want. He's never done that, but he's seen it happen, many times.

He thinks back to his time in the military, having to live in a room with a bunch of other stinky guys who didn't shut up when you just wanted some peace. You had to learn to deal with it. He imagines trying to go to his commanding officer to complain that a peer was annoying him. It would probably result in getting himself beaten up. You didn't get to fire someone because they fucked up - and this was in a situation where people's lives were actually on the line. What was on the line at a television program if your coffee didn't come with two creams and two sugars? Nothing, but you could act like it was the end of the world.

No wonder people fucking hate actors.

* * *

**A/N:** I'm not saying nurses get in the shower or tub with their patients in real life, however, comedian Jim Breuer talks about how as his father's caretaker, he took showers with him because it was easier that way. Nurses certainly do see their client's naked bodies though. It wouldn't bother me if the nurse who was washing me wore a swimsuit or got wet too, but I mostly did it to make the scene funnier.


	13. Chapter 13

_I apologize for the ridiculously short chapter, but I was on vacation all last week and being back at work has cut into my writing time. I get the impression that the last chapter really made an impression on people, I feel like I'm letting you down with this turkey. Please don't give up... I truly believe the next chapter will make up for it - it's much longer and juicier! For those who are curious about such things, I do not work in care industry, but I have firsthand experience with what a stroke can do to a loved one and how it impacts those around them. I'm sure anyone who has ever had to deal with a family member or friend losing a degree of their independence for any reason can identify. _

_Thanks to all you readers for your words of encouragement and support - it's humbling and motivational. Merci._

* * *

They eat supper together in the kitchen. It's the closest thing to a proper family meal Eric has had in a long time. That first evening, there is little conversation between the men, so Sookie entertains them with stories of her childhood in the south and speaking a little about her time with Jack, Anne and Ivar. Eric's mouth twists sourly whenever Jack's son and wife are mentioned. Sookie wonders what that is about, but has the sense not to ask.

"This meal would have been great with a bottle of Pinot Grigio, don't you think?" asks Jack.

Sookie shakes her head. "Not with your meds, mister." She doesn't mention that it wouldn't do Eric much good to watch his father drink right now either.

"You are a cruel woman," Jack pouts. "I miss wine."

"But Jack, you whine every day," she jokes as she clears the table.

~0~

After dinner Anne calls Sookie. They chat about Jack and how Ivar's doing and how her morning sickness is still plaguing her.

"How is Eric?" Anne asks.

"Um, fine I think. He's a little intense," Sookie says, thinking of his reaction to her friends calling her about her appearance in the world of celebrity gossip.

"Sounds like Eric."

"Hopefully he'll get used to me and relax a bit."

"It probably has nothing to do with you," Anne says. "Just being around Jack makes him upset, I think."

"I see that."

"Any helpful advice?" Sookie asks.

"Don't take it personally?" Anne suggests. "Honestly, I don't know what to say. I know he loves his father, but he really blames Jack for the divorce, and he's never given him a chance to tell his side. Jack basically blackmailed him into this trip."

Sookie had suspected as much. She knew that Eric wanted to use the lake house, and the only way Jack would agree to it was if they went together. It was why she had been hired for this special two week assignment. Typically she just came in to their home a few hours per day. Jack was paying a lot of money for her to act as driver, cook and nurse and be there around the clock. She hadn't asked for any of the reasons why, it was none of her business, though she wouldn't deny that she was curious.

During the few months she'd worked with Jack, he'd told her many things about his eldest son. She knew he was very proud of him, and he loved him very much. Jack insisted he'd had a very good relationship with Eric until the separation, but it had gotten progressively worse since then. Eric had been the best man at the wedding (Sookie knew this from seeing the wedding photo's at the house). From what she'd been told and put together, Eric distanced himself even more after Ivar came along.

Jack was also very concerned about Eric's recent behaviour, especially since his mother's passing. Based on what she'd seen with her own two eyes (and seen in the media) she could sympathize. It was painfully evident that there was tension between the two. She did wonder why Eric was so hurt by the divorce and remarriage. Surely after thirty years there must have been some indication of what was coming? Even though divorce is painful, it usually happens for a reason and both parties are happier in the long run.

To her mind, both father and son are clearly frustrated, but neither seems to know how to address it. Typical men, Sookie thinks.

~0~

Eric is reading in the living room when Sookie comes to sit down later that evening. He knows she was just on the phone with Anne, keeping her abreast of what is going on.

"How is she?" Eric asks, as Sookie sits down next to him.

"She's worried," Sookie answers. "I don't envy her."

"She's alright though?"

"I think she just needs someone to talk to," Sookie says. She's happy to listen to Anne's concerns, it's normal and healthy. The results of a stroke can be devastating to the health of the whole family and their social circle. It's very stressful to watch a loved one struggle. Often, both sides feel powerless. She considers helping all them part of her role as a care provider.

"The recovery is very stressful for spouses, and she's got the added burden of the pregnancy," she says. "Plus, I think she just misses him."

"Mmm."

"This will be their first time apart in years, and Ivar's in his terrible twos, and she's having a rough pregnancy. I get it."

Eric doesn't comment.

"Is it weird?" Sookie asks.

"Is what weird?"

"I'm sorry; forget I asked; it's none of my business."

"Just ask," Eric says, exasperated.

"It's just... well," Sookie says. "Anne... I mean, she's younger than you... If my father were to marry someone younger than me I'd feel so... doesn't it bother you?"

Eric inhales deeply, considering. "The age thing doesn't really bother me that much."

"No?"

He shakes his head. "Him divorcing mother, dating other people - that bothered me. But Anne specifically, and her age? No."

"Hmmm."

"Anne's a great girl," he concedes. "We actually dated, briefly, but, yeah..."

Sookie looks scandalized. "You did?"

"It was when we were in our early twenties," Eric laughs. "We went on two dates or something, nothing serious."

"Whoa."

Eric shrugs, as if to say, 'what can you do?'

"Seriously, you were okay with that? I can't even imagine."

"Sweden's a small country, there are not a lot of people," he says.

Sookie rolls her eyes. "That's how you explain dating the same people as your friends," Sookie says, rolling her eyes. "Not your parents."

"Okay, so it's a little weird," he admits. "At least we never had sex or anything that might have been more... perturbing."

Sookie processes that bit of information for a few minutes. "You said the whole divorce bothered you - it doesn't bother you anymore?"

Eric exhales deeply. "I don't know, I guess it bothers me sometimes." He doesn't know if he's every really admitted that to anyone else.

"It's okay to be angry, you know," she says.

"I'm not angry."

"No, I'm not saying you are," she replies. "I'm just saying that if you were... that it'd be okay."

Eric frowns.

"I'd be angry," she admits.

~0~


	14. Chapter 14

_I'm sorry it to so long to get this out. I've been writing a lot lately, but none of it was in any order that was helpful to publishing a chapter. Just scene after scene pouring out of me. Finally, I was able to put it in to some sort of order._

_I apologize if it's jumpy and not smooth, but I wanted to get something to you. I hope you enjoy it - it's a bit different than the last chapters. The language and terms used by Eric are meant to represent Eric's male sexual libido. His thoughts are meant to be a bit sleazy and may seem crude compared to his normal conversation. Please keep in mind he's not a total jerk, he just has his moments. Thank you so much for reading!_

* * *

The next morning Eric goes for a swim. The water is cold, refreshing and perfect. He dives down deep and holds his breath until he feels like his lungs are going to explode. He surges for the surface. When he was young, he and Jack would have competitions to see who could stay under for longer. He remembers how exhilarating it was to beat his father. He emerges from the water to find Sookie lounging on the dock in a bikini. He hopes that's not the bathing suit she wears in the shower with his Dad, because that would just be so totally unfair.

Her eyes are closed as she soaks up the sun. He steals the opportunity to check her out. She's much heavier than the women he's used to seeing. She's what Yvetta would describe as fat, though he knows she's not. He's mesmerized. Her breasts jiggle when she moves. It's weird and distracting. The tops of her thighs rub together when she walks. He knows that is how a woman's thighs are supposed to do, but he's unaccustomed to it. It's sexy as hell. Most the women he's fucked in L.A. have air between their thighs. The juncture between Sookie's thighs look like a soft cozy little space he wouldn't mind crawling inside and getting familiar with. Fuck, he needs to get laid.

Eric tries to recall the last time he had sex. It was probably with that chick in the club. He had terrible whiskey and coke dick - it's like an endless semi-erection. You're not that hard, but you can fuck forever and no matter what you do, you just can't come. It's hardly pleasurable. Sadly, it's been him and his right hand for the last few months.

Sookie clears her throat. He realizes he's been staring at her chest. Her boobs are definitely real and probably a D-cup. He hasn't been with a woman larger than a natural B in years. He's not normally a breast man - as long as there are nipples he's happy - but Sookie's breasts... Wow, just wow.

~0~

It's really not fair, Sookie thinks, as she watches Eric dry himself off. Sookie hasn't had sex in well over two year. She's been busy with work and she hasn't been on a date since she came to California. Back in Louisiana, she hadn't been much interested in men after the last few guys she'd been involved with. Alcide had been nice, but really hung up on his ex. Also, he had no interest in having children, and Sookie thought she'd like to be a mother some day. But Eric? She's been crushing on him for years. He's incredibly handsome on TV, and apparently even better in the flesh. She never thought she'd ever meet him. It's like being presented a slice of cheese cake and told it isn't for you: cruel.

Eric's abs are so cut, Sookie's convinced he doesn't have an ounce of fat on him. It looks good, but Sookie's not totally sold. In university, she dated a bodybuilder type, Quinn. He spent hours in the gym, lifting weights and watching everything he ate. His muscles looked amazing, but when she ran her fingers over his body, it was hard and lumpy like a literal washboard. It wasn't the worst thing in the world, but she actually preferred the way her other boyfriends felt. Skinny but normal. She didn't mind when a guy had a little layer of fat over his ribs, maybe it wasn't drool-inducing, but it felt nice to run her hands over it.

She's reminded of the scene in Pulp Fiction when the boxer's girlfriend goes on at length about how nice a pot belly would feel, even if it isn't so nice to look at. She finds herself inclined to agree.

She thinks of how skinny Yvetta was, how flat cheated and boyish her figure looked in magazines. She looks down at herself and sees cellulite. She notices Eric staring at her. She pulls a towel across her stomach, feeling self conscious. She's probably grossing the guy out.

~0~

"Your father and I are heading in to town to run some errands, did you need anything?" Sookie asks.

Eric can think of several things he needs: a hand job, your mouth? None of which are appropriate to vocalize to his father's nurse. "I'm good," he says.

"Okay, well we'll catch you later."

~0~

Celebrity Mag - **Northman's Mystery Woman Identified! (From LA to L.A.)**

Sources close to **Eric Northman** have identified his blonde companion as nurse, **Sookie Stackhouse**. Stackhouse, 29, is a recent transplant to Louisiana to Los Angeles. The Southern Belle has been spotted several times with the actor in Josephine County where he's currently on vacation... (continued on p.156)

~0~

Sookie finishes filling the tank and goes inside to pay. Passing the magazine section on the way to the cash register, Sookie notices a blown up version of the grainy picture of herself from the grocery store. The headline catches her eye. Mystery Woman Identified! What the hell? She grabs the magazine and plunks it down on the counter. "Pump 6," she informs the cashier. He rings up her purchases and runs her credit card without comment. Sookie stomps back to the car in a foul mood.

"Everything okay?" Jack asks, seeing her angry expression.

"No, actually," she admits.

"What's wrong?"

She shows him the magazine cover. "I'm not used to this," she admits.

Jack doesn't press any further.

"Shall we grab some lunch?" she asks.

Jack nods.

"Any preferences?"

Jack directs her to the local bar and grille. The owner and one of the waitresses recognize him from his visits over the years. They inquire after his health and offer their well wishes. They politely inquire after Sookie and provide great service. It's enough to make her forget about the stupid magazine article for the time being.

~0~

Someone knocks at the front door at some point. Sookie and Jack have only been gone for about twenty minutes, and he doubts they'd be back so soon. Reluctantly, Eric answers the door. There is an attractive woman standing there, smiling warmly. She's holding a plate of baked goods.

"Hi there," she says.

"Hello."

"I'm Evelyn, I live across the lake," she explains. "I noticed the lights have been on the past few evenings, so I thought I'd come by and say hello."

Eric is somewhat suspicious, as he always is when meeting new people. He doesn't know if she's from the older place across the lake, or the newer one, but he's certain that someone must have mentioned to her that the Northman's own this place. In the past, the locals have been pretty good about respecting their privacy, but after the photos of him at the grocery store, clearly that's changed. It also means it's no secret he's in town. He guesses that Evelyn (if she truly is their neighbour) has come with less than completely innocent intentions. He's not sure if he cares.

She's a good looking lady, in her early thirties, he guesses. She has light brown hair and gray eyes. She's fit. She's wearing a revealing tank that shows off the string bikini underneath and short jean cut-offs that showcase her trim hips and pert derriere. He wouldn't say this is the most appropriate outfit to go meet your neighbours for the first time, unless it's a porno. He realizes he's been silent too long.

"I'm Eric," he says. "So, you live across the lake?"

"Yep, in the newer place. I've lived here for nearly five years, but I've never really seen anyone at this place before."

"It's been a while..."

"Well, I just wanted to bring you some cookies and say welcome."

"Thanks," he says, taking the plate from her. Their hands touch briefly. Her skin feels warm and soft. She smells nice. She's smiling at him. He's seen that kind of smile before, many times. Always in situations that leave him feeling pretty damned good.

"Would you like a coffee?" he offers.

"I'd love one."

He leads her into the house, through to the kitchen. He puts on a pot of coffee and suggests they sit outside on the deck while they wait for it to brew. He sits down on a padded bench, and she sits next to him.

"So Evelyn, tell me about yourself."

Eric finds out that she's a teacher, divorced, no children. Her husband had built the cabin as their summer home, and she got it as part of the settlement. He excuses himself to get the coffee, and when he returns, it's her turn for polite inquiry.

"What about you, Eric?"

"Well," he says, deciding how honest he wants to be. If she knows who he is, he'll look like a jerk for lying, but if she doesn't, he can have a normal conversation. He decides to err on the side of caution - if she decides to sell information about their meeting, he wants to minimize the damage. (Do normal people worry about this shit?) He's fairly certain she knows exactly who he is, and that's exactly why she came over... dressed for a pool party. "I'm an actor."

"I know that, Eric," she says, opting for the direct approach. "I think everyone 'round these parts does."

"Ah," he says. "Well, then you probably know I'm just out of rehab."

Evelyn nods expectantly. "And you're up here with your girlfriend?"

Bingo. She's definitely aware of Sookie - either because she's seen her around the lake, or from the rumour mill.

"Nope, I don't have a girlfriend."

"Must be lonely up here by yourself," she says.

Eric doesn't bother to correct her, just smiles back at her. She places her hand on his.

~0~

Evelyn's mouth is warm and wet. The woman knows what to do with her tongue. She's working all the right spots to get him off. It feels fantastic. Eric lets his head fall back and sinks into the sensations. Yeah, this is definitely better than his hand. She's humming enthusiastically, and it's vibrating through his balls. Someone certainly knows what they're doing. He winds one hand in her hair, keeping her head close to the base of his dick. He lets the other hand stray down her front, under her shirt, over her boob. Her tits are fake. It disappoints him. Sookie's boobs aren't fake, he thinks. Sookie's boobs are probably soft and heavy. He imagines how they would fill up his hands and be firm without feeling like a sack of hardened jelly, like these ones do. Fake breasts look nice, but don't always feel so good. Sometimes you can even feel the scar tissue developing around the implant. The thought grosses him out and makes his erection flag.

Sookie's boobs wouldn't feel that way, he thinks. He wouldn't mind burying his face in her tits and suckling at her nipples for hours, not at all. That sends the blood flowing back to his penis. He looks down at the head bobbing up and down over his lap. Instead of the brown hair he sees, he imagines that it's blonde hair, Sookie's hair. He pictures Sookie's lips wrapped around him, sucking him rhythmically. Fuck, that's hot. The image sends him over the edge.

Evelyn swallows and releases him from her mouth. She smiles at him, happy that she's gotten him off. He feels like a douche for pretending he was with someone else. He just totally used this lady, and it wasn't fair to her at all. Even though she doesn't know, he feels like a jerk.

"Good?" she asks.

"Great," he says, helping her up from between his legs.

His phone rings. It's Sookie, letting him know that she and Jack are on the way back and making certain there's nothing they can bring back for him. He assures them no. The call has disrupted the flow with his visitor.

"I should get going," Evelyn says.

"Yeah." He walks Evelyn to the door.

"It was nice meeting you," she says.

"Likewise."

"Feel free to pop by anytime," she offers.

"Thanks," he answers. "I'll keep that in mind."

He watches as she gets into her car. He waves as she reverses out of the driveway. As soon as her car is out of sight, he turns back into the house and slams the door shut.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," he repeats, angry at himself. Sure, the blowjob felt great, but he's not sure it was worth the emotional shitstorm it's brought with it. Guilt over using the women - although she volunteered to be used - washes over him. Who takes advantage of people like that, he asks himself. He does. He doesn't want to be that kind of person; that entitled kind of dick. He knows Sookie hates that shit, not that he cares what the fuck Sookie thinks. After a moments consideration, he decides he does care a little about what she thinks, he's just not sure why. Probably because she's hot and sweet and she was wearing that bikini this morning and he hasn't had any action in months.

Evelyn's visit was perfectly timed. As for the guilt, they'd warned him about this in rehab. Sex and drug addiction are often all wrapped up in each other. He'll get better at navigating these situations as time goes on. Fuck. Feeling tenser than before, he jumps in the lake.

~0~


	15. Chapter 15

_To my wonderful followers and favouriters and commenters, thank you so much. It really means a lot to me that you are reading my little story. I'm working hard to bring you the best story I can. I appreciate your patience! Much love from me to you. Here's a little light-heartedness for your enjoyment._

* * *

Sookie fully expected that someone she knew would sell her out to the gossip rags. She just didn't suspect who it would actually be.

"I'm going to kill him," she seethes.

"Can't say that I blame you," Tara agrees over the phone. "He totally deserves it."

"I wish Gran were alive, because she'd do it for me!"

Tara laughs. "Probably, in any case, I'll help you."

"You haven't seen him lately, have you?"

"Honey, Jason Stackhouse knows better than to come within a mile of me," she says. Tara's no big fan of Sookie's brother. Ever since he fucked her and chucked her, he's been on her shit list. He would only go to her for help in the most dire of situations. Though the two do play nice at Christmas and Thanksgiving, for Sookie's sake.

~0~

Apparently, Jason hadn't reacted well to seeing his baby sister splashed all over the entertainment news circuit. He felt compelled to protect her honour, which meant making an absolute fool of himself (and subsequently, her). Lovely.

Sookie hadn't breathed a word to Jason about working for the Northman family, or going away with Jack and Eric. Her brother, while sweet and relatively harmless, had a big mouth and no brains. Sadly, in her attempt to keep him from running off at the mouth about her Hollywood connections, she'd created an even bigger issue for herself. Apparently a Jason Stackhouse with a little knowledge was a bad thing, while a Jason Stackhouse with no knowledge was a dangerous thing.

Big brother had taken it upon himself to call into Celebrity Mag (of course he had to pick the most widely circulated magazine) and said, "I know her; she's my sister." Of course, he didn't know why she had reason to be around Eric, so his speculation only added fuel to the fire.

"I have no idea what she'd be doing with a drugbag like that. She's a real sweet girl," he'd said. "He's probably using his movie star lifestyle to take advantage. I know she's a real big fan of his."

Great. Now she sounded like a lame ass groupie/gold digger type.

~0~

"What the hell is this?" Eric demands, tapping the Celebrity Mag on the table with an angry finger.

"Oh, uh..."

"What happened to the whole 'I'll respect your privacy,' and 'I signed a confidentiality agreement,' speech?"

"I do respect your privacy, and I haven't said anything to anyone."

"So how the hell did they find out who you were?"

"Well, I don't make every person I've ever met sign a confidentiality agreement, so I can't stop anyone who has ever met me from releasing my name," Sookie points out. "Any of my patients from a hospital could have called, or a high school friend."

"Jason Stackhouse? Is he a high school friend?"

Ouch, I guess he's read the article then, she thinks. Totally busted. "No, he's my brother."

Eric's arms are folded as across his chest. "Your brother?" That's why the last name had seemed familiar.

"Yeah, but I didn't tell him anything. He doesn't even know that I work for your dad, or that I'm here. I don't really talk to him."

"I can't imagine why not," Eric says coolly.

"Oh, go fuck yourself, Eric!" she says and storms off.

Jack has to work to suppress his laughter. He knows how frazzled the whole situation has made the poor girl. His son needs to let it go.

Eric scowls at him.

~0~

Ticked off, Eric decides this might be a good time to try working on his travel blog.

Eric hates the assignment Pam has arranged for him. He knows why he has to do it, but it feels like a punishment. He gets that the public is fickle. He understands he needs to reconnect with his fans. He knows he needs to redeem himself. It isn't just about his ego, it's about numbers. If you don't have an audience, you don't have work. He accepts that it was his own idiotic behaviour over the past year that has put him in a vulnerable position. He just wishes the cost to him personally didn't seem so high. Sure, his actions hurt the people around him, he's an adult, and he'll own his mistakes. He didn't do anything to the public though, he hates that now he has to give him a piece of himself in order to buy back their affection and acceptance. It doesn't seem fair. Not to mention, Pam and the magazine are asking him to share painful private things that he simply doesn't want to deal with.

He sits down at the desk in his mother's office. The room is still filled with her books and photographs and trinkets. The house may have been the Northman's, but the office was Freya's space. Being in here evokes a lot of memories, good and bad. He stares at a picture of his mother, father and himself that is sitting on the desk. They are all smiling and cuddled up on the deck. It reminds him of better times. He misses her. He wishes she was here to give him advice on how to fix the mess he's made of his life. He wishes she was here to tell him how to write this stupid article. She'd probably laugh at him and take perverse pleasure out of watching him squirm. She had always encouraged him to be more in touch with his feelings and have more insight into his actions. She also believed in karmic retribution, and would probably tell him he brought this on himself and should shut up and write. With that, he opens a blank document on his computer.

Eric is not a writer. He loves to read, and he loves bringing the words from the page to life even more. He enjoys improvisation. Since childhood, Freya encouraged him to create his own stories. He doesn't mind creating scenarios and characters, he just isn't one for putting words down on the page. He's never kept a diary of a journal and he really has no clue what to put in this blog. He has many thoughts and feelings, but it's nothing he wants to share with the rest of the world. If only Freya was here to talk about it. She'd tell him to be honest, because an artist's best work comes from within.

_The best memories of my childhood are from the lake house_, he writes.

~0~

"Jason Stackhouse, you better have a good excuse for talking to the tabloids," Sookie yells down the line.

"Me? What the hell did I do wrong?" Jason replies.

She could strangle him. Just for a second, she thinks. Not long enough to kill him, of course, just enough to get the point across. No, she decides. The temporary lack of oxygen might kill precious brain cells that he can't afford to lose. She'll have to be satisfied with yelling.

"Why the heck would you tell them who I was?"

"Everybody 'round here was busy talking shit about you, sis," he explains.

"So?"

"I thought if the mags knew who you were they'd find out why you were really hanging around Northman and everyone would shut up."

Jason Stackhouse logic was the most bizarre thing ever. Sookie is convinced that the most brilliant String Theorists would probably be baffled by her brother's thought process.

"Why didn't you just tell everyone else to mind their own business?" she asks.

"I did," he admits. "But they all were convinced you were sleeping with him or something."

Sookie sighs. Of course her brother would be most plagued by the idea that his little sister was having sex with someone.

"Would it be so bad if I was?"

"You better not be," he answers, temper rising.

"Calm down, Jason, I'm not sleeping with him," she explains. "I'm his father's nurse... but don't tell anyone, okay. Just say you don't know anything."

"His dad's nurse?" Clearly it never occurred to her brother that she might be around Eric because she was doing her job. Duh.

"Don't sound so disappointed," she teases. "Please, don't say anything to anyone, okay?'

She can practically hear him whining to himself.

"Your big mouth is getting me in trouble with my boss," she tells him. "You don't want me to lose my job do you?"

If there's one thing her brother does understand, it's the importance of having a job. They didn't have much money growing up, and their Gran raised them with a good work ethic. He won't do anything to jeopardize her financial security, she knows that.

"I'm sorry, Sook," he offers.

"I know."

There's a moment of silence between them, and she knows her brother is absorbing the reality of the situation.

"Well, hell," he finally says. "What's it like hanging out with them movie stars?"

"I'm working Jason," she replies. "It's the same as working with 'normal folks' - a sponge bath is a sponge bath."

"Yuck," he says. It never ceases to amaze her how easily distracted her brother can be.

"Yeah, yuck," she repeats. "Look, I gotta go, just keep quiet okay?"

"Sure thing, sis. You take care now."

She gets off the phone and decides she'd better find Eric and apologize for swearing at him, even if he totally deserved it.

~0~

She finds Eric sitting in the office, frowning at his computer. The room is filled with books, artwork, photographs and sculptures. A bunch of it appears to be in Swedish, which she supposes makes sense. This was probably his mother's office, and she wrote in her native tongue. Glancing around, she can feel Freya's presence. She understands immediately what Anne was talking about when she said she felt the lake house was too much Freya's for her to feel comfortable going there.

"Eric?" she says softly, hoping she's not interrupting anything too important. She doesn't want to draw any more of his ire than necessary.

"Hmm," he answers, acknowledging her presence, but not turning to face her.

"I spoke to my brother, and I told him not to talk to anyone about anything," she explains. "He didn't mean to cause any trouble."

Eric knows this. He realized the minute Sookie told him to fuck off that he was out of order. He has people invading his privacy all the time. He hates it, but he's used to it, it comes with the job. Sookie, on the other hand, has done nothing wrong. He can't even blame her brother for trying to protect his sister's reputation. He'd read the article and it was clear that Jason Stackhouse wasn't trying to gain anything from Eric or his sister's connection to the Northman's. He was seeing his sister associated with a known drug user and philanderer and worried about her, as he probably should be. Eric isn't always Mr. Nice Guy. His behaviour from that morning is proof of that.

"I know," he says, finally glancing at the nurse. "I'm sorry I got angry, you had every right to be upset."

"I shouldn't have sworn at you," she acknowledges. "I was a bitch."

"Not really," he says.

"No?"

"No and besides, I happen to have it on good authority that calling you a bitch isn't really an insult."

"True," she admits, thinking back to their first 'conversation' at the bar.

"I've been told to do a lot worse," he confesses.

"Yeah?"

"As far as things go, fucking myself is a pretty pleasurable experience," he grins. "You can tell me to go do it any time."

Is he flirting? Sookie hopes she's not blushing as obviously as she thinks she might be.

"Good to know," she laughs.

~0~


	16. Chapter 16

_I've been writing like crazy, just not in order. I thought I'd give you a second chapter today, to make up for the fact that it may be a few days before I can post again. (Summer Camp is starting, and I'm in charge. Woo hoo!) I accidentally deleted a bunch of this scene, this is what I could recall. It isn't as good, but I've made the best of it._

* * *

Eric stares at his scruffy face in the mirror. His beard is itchy and driving him crazy. He grabs his electric razor and shaves. The hair has grown so long, it's not a close shave, but it looks and feels a million times better. It's like he scraped off all the negative energy he's been carrying around since he went into rehab and stopped grooming.

He goes into the kitchen for breakfast. Sookie and Jack are already eating.

"You shaved," Sookie comments.

"Yeah, it was driving me nuts," he says.

"It looks... better," she says.

"My son is a handsome boy," Jack observes.

Sookie nods her agreement, which pleases Eric more than it should. In her brother's comments to Celebrity Mag, he'd said several times that Sookie was a long time fan. If she thinks he's cute, he has no problem with it at all. In fact, he welcomes it.

"Thanks," he says. "Though I may still take you up on your offer."

She looks at him questioningly.

"The straight razor," he reminds her.

"Sure, whenever," she agrees, hoping she sounds casual.

Eric is glad he's sitting down, because yet again all the blood in his body has rushed to his dick.

~0~

Eric spends the rest of the morning tucked away in the office. Sookie and Jack have no idea what he's doing in there, but they leave him be.

Sookie and Jack go through his rehab regimen: stretching and moving his limbs to keep his flexibility and range of motion, resistance exercises to develop and retain his muscle tone. She supervises as he does other activities to help him regain the strength he's lost. He works on pushing himself up out of a chair, lifting his limbs and small objects, emphasizing his weak side. She's impressed by his drive to do things for himself. If he weren't such a stubborn man, she's not sure he would have reached the level of progress he has. Every day, he's operating with more independence. With Anne due in another three months, her goal is to have Jack be able to help her with the duties of the newborn - bottle feeding, cuddling, changing, sponge bathing. They have their work cut out for them.

They also take the time to run through the program Jack's speech pathologist has set up. He still struggles to find words sometimes, but his speech doesn't sound as laboured anymore. His hard work is really paying off.

"You're doing really well, Jack," Sookie tells him.

"Anne is slave driver," he grunts. At home, Anne helps him with his daily stretching and resistance work outs. "Compared to her, you're a cake walk!" Sookie knows they were already a close family, but doesn't doubt that his stroke has brought the couple even closer in a different way. They're really making the best of it by having the whole family commit to his health care plan.

"Too bad my little assistant isn't here," she says. "I'm sure Ivar misses your handclapping and singing games." Singing is good for Jack's speech, and the clapping works his motor skills. Even helping to change Ivar's diapers and lift his son are part of his rehab.

"Maybe Eric will play pat-a-cake?" Jack suggests.

"Shall I ask him?"

"Don't bother," Jack says. "He's a grumpy guts."

Sookie can't disagree entirely with that assessment. She's a little surprised at how little interest Eric has taken in his father's rehabilitation. He hasn't asked any questions about his Dad's condition, or whether he can improve. Usually those are the first things people want to know. She doesn't expect him to participate in Jack's therapy the way Anne and Ivar do, but she thought he might at least wonder what they're doing. Honestly, she's a little disappointed.

~0~

"The editor really likes what you sent her so far," Pam tells Eric over the phone. "I'm impressed Eric, but I think we need a little... more."

Eric has the feeling he's not going to want to give more of what Pam wants.

"Given the rumours and speculation about Sookie," she says. "I think it would be a great move to include a bit about her in the blog. You know, drop her name, identify her as your father's nurse, maybe include a snapshot of her and your father doing their thing... it should take some heat off, okay?"

''I don't know Pam," Eric replies. "I don't think she'll be into that."

"It doesn't have to be a big thing, Eric, just a caption under a photo."

"I'll ask, but I don't like it."

"Noted. I also need a good picture of you and your father together, can you get Sookie to take it?" He can practically hear Pam's eyes rolling over the phone. The woman's a Goddess at her job, but totally lacking in compassion. It's probably what makes her so successful in Hollywood, but it means she has zero patience for argument.

"Fine," he sighs. It was the whole point of the article, he guesses.

"Otherwise, the stuff you've written so far is fantastic. Keep it up."

~0~

As it gets closer to lunch time, Sookie goes to tell Eric they'll be eating soon.

This time, when she enters the office, he's no longer glaring at the keyboard - he's busily typing away.

"Lunch should be ready in about half-an-hour," she informs him.

"Great," he says.

Above the desk there is a framed cross-stitch that reads: "En lyckad berättare har gott minne och hoppas att andra inte har det."

"What does that say?" she asks.

Eric follows her gaze to the framed piece and smiles fondly. "I gave my mother that years ago. It says: a successful writer has a good memory and hopes that others do not have it."

Sookie laughs.

"What was she like?"

Eric's smile widens. "Amazing, incredible, full of life. She was always there for me."

"Your father wasn't?"

"No... He was, but not in the same way," Eric says. "He was away a lot, busy with work. I didn't see him for months at a time growing up."

"I'd have taken a part-time parent over nothing," Sookie says. "My parents both died when I was a little girl."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I just think sometimes people get so caught up in the things their parents didn't do right, in the mistakes that were made, they forget how lucky they were to have that at all, you know?"

It's an entirely new perspective for Eric to ponder.

"Well, enough about that," Sookie says. "I'll call you when lunch is ready."

~0~

At lunch, Eric tells a few stories about actors he's worked with that have behaved childishly on set.

"Goodness," Sookie says. "Ivar's only two and he's better mannered!" She notices a sour look cross Eric's face. It makes her sad. Ivar is a great little boy, and it she hates to think that not only is he at a disadvantage because his father is so much older, he doesn't even have the affection of his brother.

"Give him time, Eric was a little prince until he learned to talk," Jack says with a wink.

"I was a wonderful child," Eric insists.

"Wonderful, yes," his father says, glancing over at Sookie. "Precocious too - and, of course - he was always so righteous!"

"Humph!" Eric says, expressing his disagreement.

"Once, his little cousin came to visit. The adults were all gathered in the living room and Eric appears. 'Mama, Papa,' he says. 'Magnus has bumped his head.' So we ask, how did this happen? 'He fell down the stairs,' says Eric. My goodness, we say. How did he come to fall down the stairs? 'I pushed him,' Eric professes. It was hilarious, classic Eric," Jack laughs heartily.

Eric scrunches up his face. "I don't remember that," he claims.

"Of course you don't," Jack replies. "You were four."

"And the first time he acted," Jack recounts. "He was so incredible. My friend, a director, said, 'Eric do this,' and Eric does. 'Now do this,' he says, and again, Eric does it. It was beautiful to watch. He was such a talent, even then."

Eric looks uncomfortable hearing his father's praise.

"It was not always wine and roses," Jack recalls. "As a teenager, my God, I thought he was going to give me a heart attack. Disappearing off at all hours, coming home drunk."

Eric rolls his eyes.

"He was a punk, can you believe it? With the long hair, strange clothes and that horrid music."

"Did he wear eyeliner?" Sookie asks, winking at him.

"No, but he stomped around in combat boots and black nail polish. He looked like a vampire, with a horrible cheesy moustache."

Sookie lets loose a tinkling peal of laughter. Eric is willing to submit to this horrendous humiliation if he can hear that laugh, over and over.

"What about you, did you drive your parents crazy as a teenybopper?"

Sookie's smile drops for a moment, replaced quickly. "My parents were gone by then," she reminds him.

"I'm sorry, I'm a fool," Jack apologizes.

"No, no... I did have a thing for Eminem though. Drove my poor Gran crazy."

~0~

"You probably gave her a heart attack with all the young men lining up at your door," Jack states.

Sookie shakes her head. "I was a bit of a late bloomer," she reveals. "Unlike Eric, I'm sure. He was probably breaking all the girls' hearts."

"Now, perhaps, but not always," Jack says. "One summer, when Eric was fifteen, he became smitten with the girl across the lake. She was seventeen."

"Ooh, older woman!" Sookie teases.

Eric looks distinctly uncomfortable. Clearly he remembers this story, and doesn't look too happy to be reminded of it.

"He tried so hard to impress her. Going over there every day, helping her do whatever she needed done, doing her chores even," Jack continues. "One day, she has this friend over... a female friend. Eric is flirting and flirting. He bought them things; he tried so hard to impress her, all for nothing."

"Yes, yes, let's all make a mockery of my misery," Eric groans.

"Oh, Eric, was it truly that bad?" Sookie asks.

"The girl that was visiting wasn't her friend," Jack explains. "It was her girlfriend."

"Oh, ouch," Sookie winces sympathetically. She thinks of the pictures she's seen of teenage Eric, pale and gangly and not at all the confident man she's seen on the big screen. She imagines him humiliating himself, bending over backwards to ingratiate himself to this girl, only to have his heart broken. Poor thing.

"A boy invited me to prom as a joke," she says. "It was pretty traumatic, until my brother kicked the guy's ass. I don't approve of violence, but it sure made me feel better."

Eric has a hard time believing that this guy was the only one who showed any interest in Sookie. She was the kind of girl who probably was so sweet and pretty and nice, guys were frightened to approach her. Sadly, she likely got hit on by all the dicks who didn't know how to treat a real lady, and it turned her off. He wanted to punch all the boys that hurt teenage Sookie in the face.

"You'll show them now," Jack says. "You'll find the most perfect man and make them all regret that they missed their chance with you."

~0~

**A/N**: Sookie and Eric have so much to say to each other, as do Jack and Eric. The argument they are going to have has been bubbling away for weeks now, but they're both evasive S.O.B.s that refuse to be alone long enough to duke it out. I'm sorry if the story seems drawn out... they're not cooperating. Sookie and Eric, however, are both chomping at the bit... ready to engage in more than flirting. I'm not ready yet! Tell them to hold their horses, please.

The story about Eric and his cousin Magnus is based on an actual story that happened to my friend's cousin. I love children's roundabout honesty... he fell, why? I pushed 'im. Hee hee. It was the perfect anecdote to show how Eric had total control of the situation, even as a child. Um, yeah.

Please share your thoughts!

"A successful writer has a good memory and hopes that others do not have it - En lyckad berättare har gott minne och hoppas att andra inte har det. . "


	17. Chapter 17

_This is a short one, but silly. I anticipate the next few will delve a little deeper. Thanks again to all of you who are following and commenting and making me work hard to produce quality work. I hope you like this..._

* * *

"A punk rocker, huh?" Sookie asks as she tidies up in the kitchen.

"Yeah," Eric admits with a chuckle, coming over to help her.

"How does one go from being a punk to joining the military? You must have hated being told what to do?!"

"Eh, it's not that crooked a line," he says. "In Sweden, all men must join the military. At least, at the time it was mandatory. You could get out of it pretty easily, but I guess it was my rebellion."

"I think I can understand that, sort of. Though it sounds like you had a pretty amazing childhood."

"It wasn't perfect."

"No one's is."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Did you have a teenage rebellion?"

She shakes her head. "Nope, I think that losing my parents made me more inclined to hold on to my Gran with everything that I had. Subconsciously, I probably didn't want to do anything that would risk losing the one person I had taking care of me."

Makes sense.

"Moving to Los Angeles was probably the riskiest thing I've ever done," she admits.

"You know, you're the first person I've ever met that didn't move to L.A. to make it big."

"I'll take that as a compliment, though it makes me kind of sad for you."

"Why?"

"Well, L.A. is a huge city full of people who are totally 'normal,' just living their lives," she points out. "That you've been so insulated from that is sad, like you've been living on a different planet, with the paparazzi, the women, the money, the people always doing things for you and not being honest. I'd hate it."

"Me too."

Sookie chuckles. "You're so hard done by?"

"No, I like my life, but there are parts I could do without."

"Same here." She elbows him affectionately.

~0~

Later that afternoon, Eric finds Sookie in the living room, watching TGM, a celebrity gossip show. He's been a steady fixture on the program, he finds their tactics sleazy.

She has a guilty expression on her face when she sees him, like a kid caught in the candy jar. He raises his eyebrows at her, as if to say 'Really?'

"I can't help it," she admits sheepishly. "I'm addicted. I'm so sorry."

"Don't feel bad," he says. "If I weren't on the other side of it, I'd probably be just as fascinated." He glances at the screen. They're doing a story about a young starlet being linked to one of her co-stars. It's not a big deal, except the actress has long been rumoured to be a lesbian. Her stepping out with a man is kind of a big deal in that case. He tilts his head towards the screen. "I know for a fact that she's bi," he says. "And a total bitch."

Sookie grins at him and pats the couch next to her. "You know what they say about not having anything nice to say?"

"Don't say anything at all?" he replies.

"No!" Sookie laughs. "If you don't have anything nice to say, come sit next to me!"

Eric laughs. "I haven't heard that one before, but I like it."

"Out with it, I want the dirt mister!

~0~

Forty-five minutes later, his sides are aching. He hasn't laughed this much in a long time. He doesn't feel bad for shit talking about his colleagues either. Sookie isn't interested in the personal lives of celebrities; she really wants to know who the jerks are and what kind of crap they get away with. Eric finds her outrage endearing.

"I mean, threatening not to go on until he gets a chocolate chip cookie? I mean, that's his job! He was paid to be there! He was flown first class with an entourage and put in a fancy hotel, and then he has a tantrum minutes before he's supposed to perform over a cookie? I'd be fired!" she laments. "Why do journalists protect these people? I want to know who all the jerks are so I can stop giving them my money!"

"We're spoiled, it's true."

"Your father isn't like that, neither is Anne," she argues.

"They're also big stars in Sweden," he points out. "You can't get away with that kind of shit there."

"Is that why you wanted to come to Hollywood?" she teases. "So you could be a spoiled star?"

"I'm not spoiled star," he insists.

Sookie rolls her eyes. "Maybe not the most spoiled, but c'mon. You expected me to get your bags!"

"I was hoping you didn't catch that," he confesses.

"Whatever, I expected as much," she tells him.

"What, why?"

"Have you read any of your own press lately, Mr. Northman?"

"That bad, huh?"

Sookie nods emphatically.

"At the very least, you're a pretty terrible Swede," she muses.

"How so?"

"Isn't there some set of rules you follow, like a social code or something," Sookie asks. "You know, 'you aren't better than anyone' or something to that effect?"

"Yes, yes, the law of Jante," Eric clarifies. "_You are not to think you're anyone special or that you're better than us._"

"Hello, don't you drive some crazy vintage Corvette?" she points out. "First off, that's like a classic American man in mid-life-crisis mode car, and second, it doesn't scream sensible safe Volvo, or Saab, or Zenvo or whatever."

"The Zenvo is Danish, actually," Eric replies. "But it's a pretty flash car. I don't think it fits the argument you are trying to make."

"Forget about the Zenvo then. Just admit it, you want to be special."

"Sure, doesn't everyone?"

"Well, yeah, but they don't need to drive expensive cars," she says. Mentally, she adds dating skanky celebrities and copping a drug habit too. "You're in danger of becoming a walking cliché."

"That's very insightful of you, Miss Stackhouse."

"Ms. Stackhouse, thank you very much."

"Ms," he corrects, drawing out the z.

"You'll find that not much gets by me."

"I've noticed."

~0~

A commercial for Dog Days on DVD comes on and Eric groans.

"Cheer up," she says. "It's not so bad."

"Gee, thanks."

"So, the movie kind of sucked, but your performance was great."

"That film raises some bad memories." It was around the time his mother passed, and he met Yvetta, cheated on Sophie-Anne and his whole life started circling the drain.

"I didn't mean to bring up painful stuff," she apologizes. "Sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"A giant clusterfuck," he mutters.

"Well, what do you expect from a movie with Yvetta Alam in it?" she asks.

"Not the movie," he huffs. "My life."

"Oh," she answers. After a beat she tries to lighten the mood. "I kind of wasn't kidding about the Yvetta part, I mean, really, Eric, what did you ever see in her?"

~0~

"She has redeeming qualities."

"Such as?"

Eric stalls. "She's really affectionate."

"Clingy."

"Passionate."

"Crazy."

"Talented."

Sookie glares at him incredulously. She raises an eyebrow to let him know she's waiting for him to continue.

"Beautiful?"

"That's not redeeming quality Eric, that's an adjective to describe her looks."

Eric sighs. "She's funny, you know. She's sweet. We liked the same music and films."

Sookie suppresses the urge to roll her eyes. Half the world likes the same movies and music, that's why there are blockbusters and pop-charts. She doesn't bother to point this out to him.

~0~

Sookie appreciates that Eric met Yvetta at a vulnerable time. His mother had just died, he was shooting new movie. They were together in the middle of nowhere. He was lonely and lost. It's like a perfect recipe for a fucked up Hollywood romance.

"She was there for me," he explains.

"Of course she was," she replies. "Did you cheat on Sophie-Anne?"

He shrugs. "We weren't serious."

"Did she know that?"

He doesn't answer.

"You cheated on Yvetta too?"

"Yeah," he says. "I'm a cheater."

The look she gives him lets him know exactly how uncool she thinks that is.

"I'm no worse than my old man," he argues.

"Did you Dad cheat on your mom?"

"No."

"Then I'd say you're probably worse."

Huh.

* * *

The Law of Jante is a real thing. It's from a novel and it sort of encapsulates Scandinavian mentality. The rules state:  
You're not to think you are anything special.  
You're not to think you are as good as us.  
You're not to think you are smarter than us.  
You're not to convince yourself that you are better than us.  
You're not to think you know more than us.  
You're not to think you are more important than us.  
You're not to think you are good at anything.  
You're not to laugh at us.  
You're not to think anyone cares about you.  
You're not to think you can teach us anything.  
You're not to think that there aren't a few things we know about you.

I don't mind Eric owning a corvette, or any other fancy car, but it is interesting when you look at his background that he the second he starts to be a big star, he immediately rushes out to get a cliché expensive car. Ahem.


	18. Chapter 18

_My dear faithful readers: my humblest apologies for taking forever to post. I have been writing this story non-stop, but this chapter was so elusive. The story is coming to a fork in the road and I was fighting do decide which path to take. I'm ashamed to admit this is not the most exciting or well-written chapter, but it will have to do for now. I promise future installments will be much better. _

_Now, onto the story:_

* * *

_"I mean, really, Eric, what did you ever see in her?"_

Sookie could have kicked herself when she'd let her snarky remark about Yvetta slip out. Given Eric's temper, she'd risked alienating him with her criticisms of his ex-fiancée. Fortunately, Eric had taken her ribbing about the actress well.

Lying in bed that night, Sookie considers what she learned about Eric today. Before their chat, she would have been the first to admit she believed Eric had been sucked in by Yvetta's charms due to the circumstances surrounding their meeting; that he'd truly never been in love with her. Of course, that was her opinion, not fact, but still... Based on Eric's relatively restrained discussion of Yvetta, she is now certain that Eric had cared for Yvetta. She laughs at her naive assumptions - of course he'd liked Yvetta her at least a little; they'd lived together and become engaged. She was no better than any other gossip reading fangirl, shame on her! She'd formed the majority of her opinions about Eric based on what reporters said and from edited interviews. He was a fantasy, so she'd create whatever image she wanted, right?

In her mind, because Eric hadn't been in the tabloids or gossip pages much for his personal antics prior to meeting Yvetta, clearly any changes to his behaviour were the result of Alam's bad influence. Sookie could smack herself sometimes. It's not that she ever took the blame off Eric's shoulders entirely - he's a grown man after all - but still... she knows she's been pretty judgemental. Now she feels a bit embarrassed, okay, a lot embarrassed, especially now that she knows him better.

Sookie is glad that he had a sense of humour about it. She imagines herself in his shoes, a stranger questioning her choice of partners. Though, maybe she's not a good example, seeing as she's always had a pretty good sense of humour about such things, case in point: Quinn. Even when they were dating, she'd made plenty of meathead jock jokes with Laffy and Tara.

It wasn't that Sookie truly believed Yvetta Alam to be evil; it was the media shit storm that followed the actress about. Eric wasn't the first man to be tempted by the young starlet and he certainly wouldn't be the last. It seemed the paparazzi and media were obsessed with who she was doing, what she was wearing and where she was going. Eric was just another in a long line of suitors who'd become the focus of public scrutiny after becoming involved with the young starlet. Sookie was concerned that Yvetta had manipulated her way under Eric's skin while he was grieving, in a haze of drugs and denial, his judgement clouded. Not that it was any of her business or anything. She groans to herself. It is definitely not her business, and she'd do well to remember that. He's the son of a client, and despite her attraction to him, he's off limits.

She was glad they had the chance to hang out though. He could be good company when he wanted. She hopes this is shades of the "real" Eric, and that the sour guy she's been butting heads with since she rang his doorbell a few days ago is due to other factors.

~0~

Eric lies awake in the loft, staring up at the ceiling. He'd opened up to Sookie that afternoon, more than he'd planned to. She had a playful way of talking that made him feel like sharing with her. Her reaction while he was dishing on who the biggest a-holes in Hollywood were was addictive. He kept revealing more and more, hoping to keep her undivided attention. He didn't feel guilty at all telling her that stuff, he didn't worry that she was going to run to the closest tabloid and sell him out. She was so easy to talk to and not bad to look at either.

But when she brought up his infidelity... he wanted to hide under the couch. He felt bad about it, he really did. Yvetta wasn't innocent on that charge herself, but that didn't change the facts. He'd cheated. Sookie had made it abundantly clear how she felt about that. For some reason, dealing with her judgement felt worse than when Yvetta had confronted him about it. He wasn't sure what that said about him, other than the obvious - by the end of their relationship, he'd been so done with Yvetta he hadn't cared what she thought. A better man would have ended it, instead of cheating, he knows that. He hopes Sookie isn't judging him too harshly.

He remembers her face when he'd claimed he was better than his father. He's certain she doesn't really know what he was talking about, but he was glad she hadn't asked. He's not stupid, he knows that Jack and Anne must have revealed a little about the tension between them, but that didn't mean he wanted to discuss it at that moment. Comparing himself to his father the way he had was practically an invitation for her to ask for an explanation. Maybe she'd forget about it?

~0~

Now that she'd started to get to know a little about Eric Northman "the man," she wondered how much of what she'd read about him was true. Now she can see she's oversimplified who she thought he was, and she's even more curious to find out the truth. The few details she knows of his private life make her feel a little sad, both for him and about him.

She gathers that he's "dated' a lot. Back in Sweden, he'd earned a reputation as one of the sexiest bachelors. He had dated one woman for several years, but they broke up when he went on location for his first big American gig. Sookie wondered how that woman felt, watching him now. If she were in that lady's shoes, Eric's name would probably leave a bitter taste in her mouth. She wouldn't want to find herself in a similar position, not that it was an option, or anything.

She chastises herself for even thinking about it, reminding herself that Eric Northman's past behaviour waves some big red flags. One, he was an actor; Sookie had her suspicions about the type of people that went into that profession in the first place. The fact that he was a successful actor just made it worse, indicating a certain level of entitlement. No matter how great a person you are, having other people spoil you has got to rub off on you, even if only a little. Two, he was a recovering addict. Many people have to go through rehab several times before finally succeeding in sobriety, it didn't mean a person was bad, but it increased the likelihood of hard times ahead. Going through that with a partner can be draining. Three, he had serious communication issues with his family. He preferred to avoid confrontation instead of dealing with it - this made her think he likely approached all conflict in his life in this matter. Four, he was a self-confessed cheater. Sookie had some pretty strong beliefs about that. Once a cheater, always a cheater, her Gran would say. She knows that many nice people have cheated and gone on to have long term faithful relationships, but it certainly increased the odds they'd do it again. Eric hadn't seemed that contrite or regretful about it, though she supposed that could be bravado, or the fact that he didn't know her well enough to share his true feelings on the matter. Still, she had zero patience for that shit.

If he were a normal guy she was hearing about from a friend, she doubted she'd ever consider him as a possible romantic option. Too many issues. She suspected that his looks and the fact that he was "Eric Fucking Northman" were blinding her. Not that he was interested. He might flirt with her a little, and she'd be stupid to think it meant anything. She should be concerned with protecting herself from a master of seduction. Fresh out of rehab, alone for the first time in a long while... he might see her as a form of entertainment and she can't let herself get caught up in the excitement of their minor flirtations. She knew herself all too well. Spending time with the object of a years-long crush - when she's been out of the dating game for so long - forging any kind of "deep" emotional connection with him was too tempting. For the first time in a long while she has an attractive man paying attention to her, listening to her and opening up to her. She could easily fool herself into thinking it was more than the loneliness of an emotionally stunted man-child.

Head out of the gutter, Sookie!


	19. Chapter 19

_I promised two chapters this weekend, to makeup for the lack of posting this week. This is short, but revealing. The next installment should be a longer one._

* * *

Sookie's phone is ringing. Eric glances at the screen and sees that it is Anne calling. Sookie and Jack are in the washroom. Hesitantly, he answers the call.

"Sookie's phone."

"Eric?"

"Hello Anne, Sookie's indisposed for the moment, shall I have her call you back?"

He hears Anne chuckle on the other end. "Is Jack around?"

"No, he's with Sookie right now."

"Well, I'll settle for speaking to you until their available then," she says.

"Fine," he answers. "Ah, how are things?"

"This pregnancy is harder on me than the last, but otherwise I'm fine, you?"

"I'm well," Eric says, realizing that for once, it's not far from the truth.

"I'm glad to hear it. You all are getting along?"

Eric is not sure if Anne is asking about Jack or Sookie. "Yes."

"Sookie hasn't been frightened away by the two of you yet?"

"No, I think she's holding up quite well, surprisingly."

"I don't know what we'd do without her," his father's wife admits.

"She's certainly something," he agrees.

"I'm glad you are getting along."

He hears the sounds of fussing and a child whimpering.

"Ja, Ivar, mamma ringer pappa," he hears Anne say. [Yes, Ivar, Mama's calling Dad.]

"Pappa! Pappa!" Ivar squeals loudly.

"Nej, det är din bror," his mother replies. [No, it's your brother]

"Bror? Bror? Eric!"

"Sounds like someone wants to talk to you," Anne tells him. He hears a ruffling noise as he imagines Anne pressing the handset to his sibling's ear.

"Eric?"

"Hej Ivar," Eric says. [Hello Ivar.]

Ivar lets loose a string of child-speak nonsense. Eric listens, his stomach clenching with emotions he can't describe. After a moment, Anne's voice comes back on the line. "He gets so excited whenever we talk about you," she says. "He loves his big brother. You should see how big he's gotten. Actually, he looks just like you at that age, so cute."

Just then, Sookie and Jack return from the washroom.

"It's Anne," Eric announces, holding out the phone for one of them to take.

Jack takes the phone in his good hand and begins speaking eagerly in Swedish.

Eric finds that Sookie is regarding him with a strange look.

"Sorry, I hope you don't mind me answering your phone," he apologizes. "When I saw it was Anne, I thought I'd better."

"No," she replies. "Though I'm a little surprised you did."

He shrugs, thinking: me too.

~0~

His earlier phone contact with his brother and step-mother unsettles him. It's the same as when he listens to Sookie and his father discuss Anne's pregnancy. It raises mixed feelings; on the one hand he finds it exciting. On the other, he feels bitter. It seems wrong, to be simultaneously enchanted and disgusted. He feels guilty about it. These are his siblings... they are his blood, he is meant to love them. Yet, every time he thinks of how happy his father is about his second round of fatherhood, he is reminded of how depressed his mother would get.

~0~

Growing up, Eric always wished for a brother or sister. One day, when he was about seven or eight, his father told to him that it wasn't going to happen. Jack did his best to explain that while both he and Freya had dreamed of having a large family with lots of children, but they weren't able to. Eric hadn't known about adoption then, so he didn't think to ask about why his parents didn't choose that option. He did know that every time he talked about babies, it seemed to make his parents sad. He learned to stop asking his mother and father to get him a baby brother and sister.

When he got older, his mother was able to explain in more detail the reason why. Something had happened after his birth that resulted in her infertility. While he never stopped wanting siblings, he understood that it wasn't something he should talk about. When he was old enough, he was finally able to grasp what his parents had gone through. As an adult, he was aware that though his parents loved and doted on him, accepting that he was to be their only child had been hard on the couple, but they'd made do. So, when his father had remarried and immediately started a family, he couldn't help but feel it was somehow a betrayal.

~0~

"Have you spent a lot of time with your brother?" she asks, hoping she doesn't sound too intrusive.

"No, I've been busy," he says, somewhat regretfully.

"He's very sweet," she says. "Soon he won't be the baby anymore."

"No, I suppose he won't."

"Siggy will be here soon, so you get another chance," she points out. Jack and Anne haven't revealed if they know the gender of the baby yet. "Siggy" will be Sigurd if he's a boy and Sigrid if she's a girl.

He doesn't remark about the fact that Siggy and Ivar are young enough that they're more suited to being his children than his siblings. He assumes Sookie has figured this out for herself.

"You're sort of lucky in that way," she remarks. "You were an only child and now you're an oldest. You never had to fight for your parents' affection."

"I always wanted siblings," he admits.

"Now you have them," she says casually, curious how he will react. He doesn't. She's aware there's a story there. If Jack is still able to have kids at 61, and didn't have more before that, it's likely that Freya wasn't fertile or didn't want more children. It's yet another landmine she dare not step on with Eric.

"Maybe you're lucky," she suggests. "I love my brother, but he was a pain in the neck. Maybe I'd have liked him more if he wasn't around every minute of the day growing up!"

"Older or younger?"

"I was the annoying baby sister," she laughs. "He's a few years older, about the same age difference as Ivar will have with Siggy. I'm pretty sure he resented me."

"Why?"

"I took the attention from him... Then he was always expected to look after me, keep an eye out. It was probably worse for him because we lost our parents so young."

Eric had never thought about the drawbacks of having siblings really. He'd just wanted them so badly, as playmates, he supposes. He spent a lot of time around adults as a child. They treated him like a little grown up, when sometimes he just wanted to be a little kid.

Ironically, now that he has the siblings he wanted so badly, he has virtually nothing to do with him.

* * *

**A/N:** While some of this story is undoubtedly inspired real people, I'd like to make it clear that most of it is _NOT_. This is a work of fiction, and some details are purely coincidental. I am not making any statements on how much involvement (or the reasons why) any real person has with their family - just to be clear.


	20. Chapter 20

Sookie thinks back to a conversation she had with Jack shortly after they arrived at the lake house:

"He blames me," Jack whispered. "He never gave me a chance to explain, really. Now it's probably too late."

How would she have felt in Eric's shoes? What if her parents had lived long enough to divorce, would she have been mad at her father for marrying someone else, for starting a second family? Probably, but would she have been so angry that she wouldn't even give him a chance to talk to her about it? She likes to think she'd have at least listened to his side of things, especially knowing that when a couple divorces it's usually for a good reason.

She sees that children hold their parents to all sorts of ridiculous standards. The cost of that awareness was dear; it took not having her parents in her life to realize.

"This trip, you'll talk," she'd promised, hoping she was being honest.

~0~

Jack and Eric have hardly shared a moment of alone time since arriving at the lake house. When they do speak, Eric doesn't get angry at his father, but he manages to avoid any topic that would involve any sort of emotional exchange. It's awkward for Sookie to watch. She'd almost prefer to watch them fight than struggle to be polite. She knows that it's bothering Jack too, but Eric seems bound and determined not to spend time alone with his father. It takes a lot of her will power not to intervene. She wants to lock Jack and Eric in a room and not let them out until they've faced off. She wants to knock their skulls together. She wants to help. She wants to do all of these things, but she can't. Instead she tries to create opportunities for them to talk. When she's not working with his father, she tends to disappear into her room or hang out by the lake. Her strategy isn't working.

~0~

Eric isn't sure if he appreciates the obvious space Sookie gives them or not. He can tell that his father wants to talk to him and he just doesn't want to deal with it. It's much easier to brush Jack's attempts at conversation off when Sookie is there to act as a foil. The fact that she's pretty and funny doesn't hurt either.

~0~

Sookie can see that Jack is just as afraid of spooking Eric off as she is. He's like a horse than needs to be approached carefully.

~0~

Sookie wanders out onto the deck, intending to spend some time topping up her tan. Eric apparently had thoughts of doing the same, as she finds him lying back on a lounger.

"Mind if I join you?" she asks.

He shakes his head no and slips of his headphones. She takes that as an invitation for conversation.

"So, if your father and I weren't here with you, what would you be doing right now?" she asks.

"Probably this," he admits.

"Can I ask why you wanted to come here?"

He looks thoughtful. "I needed a place where I wouldn't be tempted by drugs or alcohol. My doctor suggested that I try to reconnect with family. This place is full of good memories of my family; I guess I thought it would be a peaceful place to do some thinking."

"You were going to reconnect with your family, but without them being here?"

"It sounds kind of dumb when you say it out loud," he admits.

"No, I get it, I think. My brother lives in my parent's old house. They haven't lived there in twenty years, but it still feels like their home to me. When I go there, it reminds me of them," she explains. "I'm sure it's similar for you."

She thinks about how Anne described this place as Freya's. The whole house - and the office especially - bears Freya's mark. It would make her uncomfortable in Anne's shoes. She wonders if Jack hasn't been here in years because he finds it too painful. She can only imagine what it's doing to Eric, being surrounded by his mother's stuff; is it soothing him or reminding him of his sorrows?

~0~

"When was the last time you were up here?"

"A while now, my parents were still married at the time."

"Your mom didn't take her stuff with her after the divorce?"

"The place was still half hers," Eric explains. "She kept coming here to write. I guess it's mine now."

That explained why her stuff was still here.

"I sold her place in Stockholm after her funeral. This is the last place that was hers and I didn't have the heart to come clear it out."

"Jack didn't do that?"

"If he'd come here, he might have, I guess. I expected he already had."

It saddens Sookie to confirm just how little the two men talk.

"You seemed surprised when I told you that he'd never come here with Anne."

"Yeah, he loved this place. They both did, they spent a lot of time here, even after I grew up and stopped coming with them."

"Maybe it's full of painful memories for him," she offers.

Eric huffs at the suggestion.

"You don't think so?"

"It probably reminded him what a jerk he was for ditching his wife," Eric mutters quietly.

"Ouch," Sookie says. "I guess it did bother you after all."

Eric looks at her coldly, not happy to be called out on his emotions.

"Hey, he's your dad. If you say he's a jerk, I'll have to take your word for it." She doesn't mention how he'd claimed he was better than his father the day before, even though she really wants to.

"I wasn't so mad at first, I understand sometimes people divorce," he explains. "Even when he got remarried I understood that he wouldn't want to be alone. But then Ivar came, and I couldn't take it."

"Why?"

"My mother was so unhappy when he left. She was really depressed and he didn't seem to care," he reveals. "Then he had kids." He shakes his head as he speaks. "They both wanted a large family but my mom couldn't have more. Him having children with Anne so fast was like a slap in her face."

Well, that certainly explains the sour look on his face every time his siblings or the pregnancy are mentioned, Sookie thinks. She's glad Eric is finally opening up to someone about this stuff, and she's happy to be there to listen to him, but she thinks he really should be talking about this with his Jack.

~0~

"Why did your parents' divorce?"

"My father left my mother," Eric answers.

"That's what happened, yes," Sookie agrees. "But why?"

Eric pauses, unsure that he has an answer. He remembers his mother calling, in tears, to tell him that they were divorcing.

"Your father is moving out," Freya told him, saying he didn't want to be with her anymore. They'd been together since she was a teenager; he'd been her first serious boyfriend. Now she was alone.

When he'd discussed it with his father, he'd said "I can't be with her anymore, son."

"Don't you love her?" he'd asked.

"Yes," Jack claimed. "But I can't do it anymore."

He was thirty at the time, had long been out on his own. He saw them frequently still, but he hadn't detected unusual tension. He'd been surprised. His father had been in America working on a film. He'd come back and suddenly announced that he wanted a divorce. Eric had suspected his father had an affair on set, but Jack had sworn up and down he had never cheated on Freya. He took his father's word for it. When he'd pressed for more information at the time, Jack had told him to ask his mother. Freya had been too upset to discuss it.

When Jack married Anne, he'd gone to the wedding. At the time, he'd simply accepted that his father was remarrying. He hadn't been a single man since his teens. He probably didn't know how to function without a partner. But when his father announced that he and Anne were expecting, Freya fell into a terrible depression. Eric felt betrayed on her behalf. All his life, he'd wanted siblings, but Freya hadn't been able to have more children. His father had always insisted that he was okay with this, and then he abandons his wife and starts a new family after thirty years?

Already, he'd been building resentment towards his father, as many sons do as they struggle to make their way in life. Now he was left holding his mother's hand while his Dad started a second family. It seemed so insensitive. When Eric tried to talk to him about it, Jack didn't seem to care that Freya was suffering.

The distance between father and son grew.

Eric didn't hate his father, but he thought he was a hypocritical coward. They never fought, Eric simply stayed away. He spent the holidays with his mother. They had always had close bond. Around the time Ivar was born, Freya discovered she had cancer, and he became focused on that. Between his career and caring for her, time passed. He had little to say to his father and the chasm only grew when he started to have a career of his own in the States. Everyone was always comparing them, and it drove Eric nuts.

When Freya suggested he could use the role his father played to finally differentiate them, he took the chance.

Then Freya died, and he spun out of control. He never grieved her loss properly, throwing himself into his relationship with Yvetta, and work, and drugs.

Now he was here - feeling forced to face it.

"Have you ever talked to Jack about this?" Sookie whispers.

Eric scoffs and slips his headphones back on.

~0~


	21. Chapter 21

_My little fic has over 150 reviews and nearly 100 follows. I know that it's a pittance compared to other people in this fandom, but I'm so thrilled to have anyone read my story - thank you so much to those of you who have joined me on the journey. (Especially those of you who comment/review on every chapter). It truly is motivational for me, and I do appreciate it._

_This chapter is a little bit of fun and sass before things take a more serious turn._

_In other news, I've decided that I may actually end this story earlier than I expected and have a follow-up. That way I can explore different ideas without leaving the core of this story behind. Let me know if you'd be interested in reading more about this messed up family I've created. (I promise, any sequels will feature more Lafayette!)_

* * *

"I was a dick before," Eric says, standing in the doorway to her room.

Sookie glances up from the book she's reading. "I was pushing pretty hard," she replies.

"Could I take you up on that offer for a shave?"

"Now?"

"Well, whenever's convenient."

"You trust me to have a blade near your throat after a fight?"

"I like to live dangerously," he grins.

"Of course you do," she replies. "Meet me in the kitchen in twenty."

~0~

Sookie hadn't been lying when she'd told Eric she learned to shave for a boyfriend. She just hadn't explained why. He had a bit of a thing about shaving, apparently. First, she learned how to give him a shave with a regular razor. It had been an excuse to flirt and be close and get in his space. He returned the favour by shaving her legs in the bath. It made something mundane seem sexy and fun. She'd learned to use a straight razor after she'd discovered that her boyfriend thought it was one of the sexiest things ever. He'd made her watch a documentary about how sensual it all was and she decided it would make a great anniversary surprise.

She had no idea at the time how handy the skill would be in her work. Electric razors were just dandy, but people had their preferences and shouldn't be denied them simply because they can't complete a task for themselves. Experience has taught her that a super close shave meant the patient could go longer between visits - something handy for those who didn't have a lot of money or regular help.

She feels nervous and hot. She can shave a patient without getting excited, of course, but Eric Northman is hardly a typical client. He's an incredibly attractive man that she's been crushing on for years. It makes her tingle in an inappropriate way. She hopes she doesn't start breathing all heavy on him or anything, because that would be embarrassing.

~0~

She is setting up in the kitchen. There's lots of space and the lighting is good. Also, there's a reasonable chance Jack can come by at any time, which is totally unappealing and therefore a great preventative measure. She sets out the things she needs: the razor, the brush, the dish of soap, towels and a bowl of water.

Eric comes in wearing a black singlet. It emphasizes his shoulders. They are quite broad and well defined, not that she cares about such things. She indicates he should sit down. She drapes a towel around his front. She can feel his eyes on her as she moves about the room, getting everything ready. She feels anxious. She takes a hot wet towel and wraps it over his face to soften his beard. The fact that it prevents him from seeing her is just a fringe benefit.

She looks down at his lap and sees that he's just as excited about this as she is. That's an interesting bit of information.

~0~

Typically, she shaves a patient while she's standing up. With her boyfriends, she sits herself down on their lap. With Eric, she has no idea what to do. She hasn't wanted to sit on a man's lap so badly since she was a little girl visiting Santa. It's pathetic.

She settles for in between, standing with her legs straddling one of his thighs.

She shaves his face with the same precise motions she'd use on a patient. She can't help but notice how pronounced his Adam's apple is. As she places her hand against his neck, she becomes aware of how small her hand looks, how thick and long the column of this throat. He has a cleft chin and his jaw is a little less square than it appears in pictures. She carefully wipes the blade clean after each pass, peering closely to ensure that she's not scraping his face raw.

His eyes have been closed the whole time, but when she glances up, she finds his eyes locked with hers. She swallows thickly. His gaze is penetrating. She can feel the heat of the blush as it moves over her face.

"What?" she asks.

He replies with a minute shake of his head.

~0~

Good god, she's trying to kill him, he thinks. She practically giving him a lap dance and he has to sit there and not move a muscle. This is way hotter than it is when he goes to the barber. Totally unfair. Sookie smells really good too. He wonders if he'll need to sit on his hands to keep his paws to himself. Wait, did her breast just brush against his chest? He feels like a teenager who just popped a boner in class. This must be his punishment for being a jackass to Yvetta, he's convinced of it.

~0~

"Did you see that interview this morning?" Sookie asks.

"Yeah," Eric sighs.

"She's engaged to that England guy already."

"She does like to get engaged..."

"Are you bitter?"

"Not at all," he laughs. "She kept planting all sorts of stories about our engagement until finally I just gave up."

"What do you mean?"

"That photo she tweeted out as our announcement - the one with the ring?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, I took the photo, but that ring was one she got for herself. I had no idea she was tweeting out that we were getting married."

"No way!"

He shrugs, carefully not to jostle her while she works. "I liked her, and I guess I thought that maybe it would be nice."

"Wow."

"I know," he replies. "I realize now that she's been 'engaged' to every guy she's dated in the past five years. It's kind of her thing."

"Well, better you figured it out before you married her," Sookie says.

He shivers. "Thank goodness. I don't think I could have ever made it through her bridezilla phase."

"That bad?"

"Everything was about the most boring minutiae. It's probably what drove me to drink," he jokes. "She was all about the guest lists and sponsored gift bags and designer dresses. I hate that shit."

"Understandable."

~0~

"Speaking of things I don't like, I have a favour to ask," Eric asks somberly.

Sookie's expression turns serious at the tone of his voice. "Okay?"

"I'm writing this travel blog, about this trip and my Dad," he explains.

"Uh-huh." That explains the writing he's been doing.

"I need a few photos of Jack and I," he hesitates.

"You want me to take them? Sure," she says. That's not a big deal; it certainly doesn't merit his serious tone.

"And, um, my manager wants to get a picture of you and my Dad, doing his therapy."

"Oh." That's not so bad either, considering.

"They want me to explain who you are, you know, to ease the tabloid speculation," he explains.

Sookie nods. Of course they want to deal with the rumours. She figures it can't hurt at this point, since she's already had her face on the cover of two major magazines this week. "Okay."

"Okay? You'll do it?"

"Yes," she answers. "On one condition."

"Shoot."

"You have take Jack out for dinner," she says. Eric starts to argue, but she holds up her finger, indicating that she's not finished. "You have to talk to him. You need to have an actual conversation with him, about whatever he wants to discuss."

Eric's mouth drops open in surprise. He really needs to get better at anticipating the conditions the women in his life give him, he thinks, he'd been way off with Pam and the Louboutins, and now this.

"I don't know what the story is, what beef you have between you," she says. "But I know that there's something and you need to work it out - before your dad dies, Eric - when he's gone it will be too late."

~0~

Eric has no good comeback for that.

"Face it; you have massive Daddy issues, Eric. It's kind of unattractive on a man your age."

Ouch. That hurt.

"If you knew my father like I did, you'd understand."

"Well, I obviously don't know your father like you do, so I don't understand," she argues. "Why don't you explain it to me?"

"I told you before, he left my mom out of nowhere and started a new family with a woman my age and didn't fucking care that it was killing my mother."

"Do you really believe that?"

"What?"

"That he didn't care about your mother _and_ that it was truly out of nowhere?"

"Everything was fine and then bam; he wanted a divorce and a do-over."

Somehow, Sookie didn't believe this was the case at all. Eric had been too wrapped up in his own life to see it. His own issues with his father and his mother's unwillingness to talk about it probably coloured his perception of events even more. She wasn't saying she though Jack was innocent, just that Eric was likely missing a few pieces of the puzzle.

"This is why I think you need to speak to your Dad about this," she says. "Because I'm pretty sure he doesn't sees it the way you do, at all."

"How does he see it?"

"I don't know, which is why I think you should talk to him," she continues. "I get that you feel he wasn't there for you growing up, but neither was my dad. I'm angry he died. As a teen, I felt like my parent's had both abandoned me, but eventually I got over it. Now I wish I had a chance to see him again, tell him I love him. Don't let that opportunity pass you by," she warns. "I'd do anything for one more day."

Eric says nothing. Sookie can't tell if he's shut her out or if he's just considering her words.

"Your father's not well, don't let something stupid come between you and let him die before you've had a chance to resolve it."

~0~

"Did you get her to agree to the photo?" Pam asks.

Eric sighs heavily. "Only if I agree to - and I'm quoting here - have an actual conversation with Jack, about whatever he wants to discuss."

"It's about damned time," she replies.

"Thanks for your support, Pam."

"Well, she's right."

"That seems like a pretty hefty price for one measly picture."

"Forget the photo, Eric," Pam says. "What about the potential gains?"

"Such as?"

"Oh, I don't know: resolution, closure, happy family Christmases?"

"Overrated," he says sardonically.

"Grinch."

"Look who's talking!"

"You agreed to do it, right?"

"Whose side are you one here?" he asks. She actually wants him to do it. Fuck. He's kind of on the verge of freaking out. Okay, totally in a freak out, like he could use a drink freak out.

"I'm on your side, always," she says. He can tell she's taking delight in his misery. "I don't care what she's making you do; you go tell her she's got a deal."

For a moment Eric wonders if this is what Pam is talking about when she bitches about having to "deal with him." Note to self: never allow Sookie and Pam to collaborate.

"Fine, but you'll both owe me one."

"Sure, whatever, add it to my tab," Pam replies dismissively. "Look, I've got a call on the other line, we'll talk more later. And Eric? Man the fuck up at talk to Jack."

~0~

"Final offer: I'll talk to my dad if you'll let me use your picture and take me for dinner."

"You want me to take you to dinner?" Sookie repeats.

"Yeah," he says.

"Um, uh... okay." Eric Northman wants to go out with her?

"Yeah, I need to get the heck out of this place."

Of course, he wants company because he's feeling stir-crazy. Sookie mentally kicks herself for even thinking he might have been wrangling for a date. Duh. She pretends to contemplate the offer.

"Okay," she says. "But you're buying, Mr. Hotshot Hollywood Actor."

~0~


	22. Chapter 22

Eric promised Sookie he would speak to his father the following day. When she bargained/blackmailed him into agreeing to speak to Jack, perhaps she should have specified that he start the dialogue calmly and rationally. What happened wasn't exactly what she'd been expecting when she suggest they speak. Apparently, her idea of clearing the air and Eric's were totally fucking different.

The next day, the tension between Eric and Jack is palpable. Sookie is fairly certain that Eric never actually broached the idea of a 'talk' with his father. She guesses that it's his anxiety about speaking to his Dad that brings out the worst in him. He has a huffy reaction to everything Jack says, snarking and rolling his eyes. By some miracle, Jack doesn't take the bait, remaining unruffled. Sookie's not sure how he manages to keep it together, because she's about ready to smack Eric upside the head.

Whatever it is that finally sparks Eric's ire, things officially come to a head in the late afternoon. Sookie tells the men that she's heading out on an errand and will be back later.

~0~

Eric has been antagonizing Jack all day. He knows his son is angry at him, and he wants to get him to open up, but he has no idea how.

The tension between them is so thick, Sookie decides she can't take it anymore and announces she's leaving. Poor girl, she didn't ask to be drawn into this, he thinks.

Finally, after a particularly snappish remark, he confronts Eric.

"I'm sorry son," Jack says calmly. "I don't know what I did that makes you hate me so much."

"I don't hate you."

"Fine, you don't hate me, but you're clearly angry with me," he answers. "Come on out with it already, just tell me whatever it is that has made you so very angry at me."

Eric narrows his eyes at him for a moment before asking: "Why did you divorce mom?"

Jack looks surprised at the question. Whatever he was expecting to hear, it wasn't that.

"I loved your mother very much, but I just couldn't do it anymore."

"Do what?"

"Pretending everything was fine, that I was happy. I realized it was time for me to have the life I deserved."

"You deserved to run off and married someone and have the family Freya could never give you?"

"Is that what you believe?"

"Yes." Eric replies, stubbornly crossing his arms over his chest.

"You realize we'd been apart for nearly two years before I even met Anne, right? When your mother and I split, I never thought I'd have a chance at more children. But when the opportunity presented itself, yes, I took it," Jack says. "Is that what has you in a snit?"

"No! Yes! Fuck! You left her. You left her with no warning. It destroyed her," Eric spits, his jaw clenched. "I was the one left to pick up the pieces."

Jack sighs. "You think I left your mother to hurt her? I don't know what she told you, but believe me, she'd checked out of our relationship long before I did."

"What do you mean?"

Jack stares at his son, wondering how he can say it, how he can tell him the truth without hurting him and damaging their relationship forever.

~0~

"You know your mother and I always wanted more children, yes?"

Eric nods.

"When we found out we couldn't have more children, it was very hard on us. I was so disappointed, and your mother went into a depression. It was difficult, be we overcame it."

"As time went on, your mother's bouts of depression got worse and worse. I tried to help, but she pushed me away. I did what I could, but she wouldn't speak to me. I reached a point where I couldn't do it anymore."

"Funny, I don't remember her being so depressed until after you remarried. When were these so-called 'terrible times?'?" Eric asks sarcastically.

"Well, the first time was when you were a little boy," Jack says. "Then when you were a moody teenager off drinking with your friends and locked in your room and only interested in yourself, while you were living on the base, when you were in the states, while you were working on location. Eric, you moved out when you were eighteen, you spoke to her occasionally on the phone. You didn't see her for months a time. Can you honestly say what was really going on with her?"

Eric realizes that his father is right: he can't. That doesn't appease his anger though.

"There's a lot about your mother that you don't know, son."

"Such as?" Eric asks, looking deflated.

Jacks face crumples as he looks at the pain in his son's eyes. "Did you ever ask your mother why she couldn't have more children?"

"She was infertile. She had an infection after I was born."

"Did she tell you where that infection came from?"

Eric shakes his head, no. He'd never asked either.

"It was an abortion, did she tell you that?"

Eric has no idea what his father is talking about.

"No? Me neither, Eric," Jack says, disgust in his voice. "I found out after. After _years_ of thinking we were trying to get pregnant, I discovered she'd been lying to me the whole time. I tried to forgive her and to understand, but I'm not that good a man, I guess."

Eric can't believe his ears. He feels disgusted that his father would even suggest that about his mother. It can't be true.

"You're lying!"

"I wish I were," Jack replies sadly.

"Fucking handy that she's not here to defend herself, is she?"

"Go read her diaries, Eric! It's all there in her own hand," Jack says. "Check her office if you don't believe me. Everything you could ever want to know about your mother is in there."

Eric heart sinks. His mother was a writer and a prolific journal keeper. His father isn't making that part up. He knows now that he'll have to go through them, if only to prove his father wrong.

~0~

Eric stands in the doorway of his mother's office. He stares at the bookshelf that holds her journals. He knows it's not all of them - there were dozens more in the house in Stockholm. He'd packed them away carefully.

When she was first diagnosed with cancer, Freya told him she'd begun to write her memoirs. After her death, he'd been too consumed by his grief (and the drugs) to read it.

He wonders briefly if it's still a violation of her privacy to read her diaries now that she is dead. Ultimately, he decides that it isn't. She was a writer; she kept these journals knowing someday someone would read them.

He steps into the room and grabs the first one off the shelf. He opens it and begins to read.

~0~

While Eric is in the office, Jack sits there, contemplating what his son is going to find out about his mother. He thinks about his own relationship with his wife and how painful his discovery of the truth was. He has no idea how his son will deal with it.

~0~

Eric flips open one of his mother's journals and begins to read. When he finishes reading the first diary, he opens the next. Page after page in his mother's own hand, laying out her thoughts and experiences. Years of things he'd known and believed were being flipped on their head.

His mother, that bastion of honesty and openness, had lied. She had lied about lying. She wrote about the lies that she told, how they made her feel, and why she did it... but she never wrote about what her lies might be doing to those around her. She mentions the sadness she sees in Jack, but she never writes about what might happen if he uncovers the truth. Eric is stunned. He understands now why his father reacted the way that he did. Why they hadn't been able to work things out. Why he left Eric to deal with her. He feels sick to his stomach, but there it is in black and white... this isn't his father twisting things through his own lens of justification and rationalization. This was his mother recording her history as it had occurred.

His heart is breaking.

~0~

After what seems like an eternity, Jack hears the door slam. He reaches for his cell phone.

"Hello?"

"Sookie?" he says.

"Jack? Is everything okay?

He swallows thickly.

"Eric just ran out of here. I'm worried about what he's going to do. Can you find him?"

* * *

**A/N:** *hides*


	23. Chapter 23

_I'm sorry I haven't replied to the latest round of comments. I thought you would probably prefer a new chapter instead. This one is a little longer than usual, I hope it makes up for the lack of recent updates. Again, I thank you all for your continued support._

* * *

Sookie drives back from town slowly, hoping to catch sight of Eric along the way. He can't have gotten far, she thinks, he was on foot. She sees no sign of him before getting back to the house.

Jack is waiting in the living room, one of Freya's journals in his lap.

"Is he back?" she asks.

"No."

"Did you try calling him?"

"No, I don't think that he'll answer me."

She doubts he'd answer a call from her either, right now.

"What happened?"

"We had a fight," he answers.

"I know that," she says. "What about?"

"He asked me why I left Freya."

"And?"

"He didn't like the answer."

"I see," she says, though she doesn't really. She glances pointedly at the book in his lap.

"Freya's journal," he says. "One of them, I told him to read them if he didn't believe me..."

Now she understands. Whatever Eric had read in these journals wasn't what he expected when he confronted his father.

"Any ideas where he might have gone?"

"Not on foot," Jack admits.

~0~

Sookie goes back outside and wanders around the house, hoping that maybe Eric is somewhere on the property. Dusking is settling, and the daylight is fading. Across the lake, she can see the lights are on in both the houses. She wonders if perhaps he's wandered over there.

Unsure what to do, she goes back inside. If she was a recovering alcoholic who'd just learned something shocking, what would she do? Pretty much the same thing most people who aren't alcoholics do after they get bad news... she'd go for a drink. She pokes around the kitchen and finds an ancient phone book for the town. Keeping her fingers crossed that the business has been open long enough, she searches for the only bar in town.

"Merlotte's Bar & Grill."

"Hi, um," she should have thought out what she was going to say before dialling. Asking for Eric Northman is going to make her sound like a stalker. Fuck it, no stalker would call and tell them not to serve Eric Northman drinks. "Who am I speaking with?"

"Arlene."

"Hi Arlene, my name is Sookie Stackhouse, and I'm up here staying with Jack and Eric Northman," she says.

"Oh hey," Arlene says. "The blonde from the other day? I was your waitress."

"Right, so Arlene, Eric's gone out for a while, and I was wondering if he was there by any chance."

"No, I ain't seen him honey, but if I do, you want me to give you a call?"

"That would be great." Sookie gives Arlene her number. "Could you do me a favour?"

"Not serve him?"

"Yeah, he's..."

"Fresh out of rehab? I know."

"Thanks."

~0~

Sookie doesn't know what to do. It's starting to get dark, and there aren't many cars out their way, or streetlights. She's worried that Eric could be wandering on the side of the road in the dark. She tries calling his cell. She hears it ringing in the office. Shit. He's left his phone behind. He doesn't have a way to reach them if he needs help.

She goes back outside and tries calling his name a few times, but gets no response. She does notice that the lights at the newer house across the lake are out now. He's most likely not there then. She tells Jack she's going to go for a drive and see if she can't find him.

He agrees he'll call if he needs help, or if Eric comes back.

~0~

She's already most of the way back to town when her phone rings. She answers without checking the caller id.

"Eric?"

"Sorry honey, it's Arlene."

"Oh, hi."

"Just wanted to let you know that he just walked in the door a few minutes ago."

"Thanks Arlene."

"Don't mention it sweetie. See you soon."

"I'll be there in five," she says and hangs up.

~0~

Sookie pulls up outside Merlotte's bar and grill. During the day, when she'd come here with Jack, it had been very quiet. Judging from the parking lot, the place comes alive at night. She parks the minivan and heads inside.

Arlene spots her right away. "He's over in the corner," she says, pointing toward the back.

Sookie looks where the waitress is pointing, and sees Eric sitting at a table with the brunette who'd been at the house the other day... Ellen, or Eve, or something similar. Eric is sitting there, staring vacantly, while his companion is nattering on. She doesn't seem to notice or care that he's not really tuned in to her.

Unsure what to do, she stands there for a moment staring until the owner, whom she met the other day, comes over and guides her towards a stool at the bar.

"Sookie, right?" he says. "C'mon, have a sit for a minute. Arlene told me you'd called. I'll catch you up."

"Oh gosh, I've forgotten your name," she admits, embarrassed.

"Sam Merlotte," he reminds her.

"I'm so sorry."

"Don't be... you're a new face around here... makes you stick out like a sore thumb."

"I'm from a small town myself," she tells him. "This place reminds me of the local watering hole back home in Louisiana."

"Same redneck feel?" he teases.

She chuckles for the first time that day.

"Rough day?" Sam asks.

Sookie closes her eyes for a moment and collects herself. "Yes."

"The good news is, we haven't served him," he tells her. "The bad news is: it looks like he'd had a few before he got here."

She looks over at Eric's table and realizes that Sam has seated her in a spot where she can easily watch him. Praise Sam. He's glassy eyed and unfocused. Crap. Had he gone over to Elaine's and started drinking there?

"Thank you," she says.

~0~

After watching her charge for a several minutes, she decides it's time to venture over and check on him.

"Hi Eric," she says. Eric glances up at her. She can tell that he's been drinking hard liquor, quite a bit of it. "How'd you get here?"

"Evelyn brought me," he says, gesturing towards the woman who has draped her arm across the back of his seat. "You remember her; she's our neighbour from across the lake. Evelyn this is Sookie."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Sookie says. She doesn't want to get him upset, so she tries to play it cool, like this nothing out of the ordinary. "You live in such a beautiful place."

"Thanks Snooki," the woman replies. Eric snorts.

"It's Soo-kie," she corrects patiently. It takes a lot worse to get her goat.

"Oops, my bad." Evelyn smiles smugly, as if she's lording it over her head that she's there with Eric and Sookie isn't. She wants to roll her eyes, but keeps herself in check.

"Jack and I were worried," she says. "You left your phone at the house. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"He's just fine," Evelyn says as she pats him on the back and leans in close. "We've been having a grand time."

"Great, that's great," Sookie answers. Evelyn is drunk too. She's willing to guess they drank all the booze at Evelyn's and had to come into town to keep drinking. "Well, now that I know you're here with Evelyn, I'll just go on home."

She turns to leave, then remembers she has Eric's phone. She turns back around. "Here's your phone, let me know if you need a ride home or anything," she says as she puts the phone down on the table.

"Wait," he says, taking hold of her wrist. "Sit, join us."

"Oh, uh..."

Evelyn looks livid at the prospect of having her date with Eric Northman interrupted.

"I don't want to be a bother."

Eric blows a raspberry. "Bother, shmother," he states, tugging her gently until she ends up on his lap.

"Okay, okay," she says, squirming around until she's off his lap, settling for pressed against his side.

He reaches over to lift his drink and takes a sip. "This is a shitty drink," he comments.

Sookie withholds a smile. According to Sam they'd ordered rum and cokes - but he's given them both plain sodas. They are too inebriated to really notice. She reminds herself to leave Sam and Arlene a really big tip.

"Sam!" he calls out loudly. "Another round - doubles!"

Sam and the other servers ignore him. He pouts like a spoiled brat. "Hey Evie, go get us s'more drinks, okay?"

'Evie' looks suitably unimpressed at being sent off on an errand, but eventually capitulates. She glares daggers at Sookie as she goes. She weaves a little as she walks, definitely drunk.

~0~

"Old friend of yours?" Sookie asks, once she's out of earshot.

"Not really."

She narrows her eyes at him like she doesn't believe him, but lets it go.

"You ready to go home soon?"

"No."

"Okay," She turns in her seat to try to flag down a waitress. Eric needs water to sober up.

Sam himself appears.

"Hey Eric," he says. "Sookie."

"You've met?" Eric asks.

"Yeah, your old man brought her in the other day," Sam explains, not mentioning that they'd called her to notify her of his presence. "Hard to forget a pretty face like hers."

Sookie blushes at the compliment. It's weird for Eric to see her reacting to another man. He and his father certainly like to make her laugh and turn her cheeks pink with their flirting. He doesn't like it.

"Now what can I get you folks?"

"Double rum and coke."

"Water, please," Sookie requests.

"Be right back."

Sam heads back to the bar to fill their order. Sookie is watching the bar where Evelyn is arguing with Arlene about whether she's been cut off or not. Eric assumes she's watching Sam.

"You like him?" he asks.

"Who, Sam?" she replies. "He's nice."

Eric scoffs and takes a drink. "Bet he doesn't cheat on his girlfriends," he mutters.

Sookie ignores him, sitting there silently.

Evelyn comes stomping back to the table. "Stupid bitch won't serve me," she sneers, pointing at the red-headed waitress who has followed her over.

"You've had enough honey; I'm putting you in a cab."

"I'm fine, I'm not ready to go yet," Evelyn insists.

"Sure you are," Arlene says, with the patience of a woman who has seen a million moody drunks.

Evelyn looks like she's about to be sick. "C'mon quick, let's get you to the ladies," Arlene says, grabbing Evelyn's purse from the booth and tugging her by the arm towards the restrooms.

~0~

Eric rubs his eyes tiredly. "I'm drunk," he announces.

"I know."

"You're not yelling at me."

"I'm not your sober companion," she points out.

"What happened to the 'your business is my business because of your father's healthy stuff'?"

"Will it change the fact you've been drinking?"

"No."

"Then it seems kind of pointless at the moment."

Eric doesn't know what to say to that.

"Want to talk about it?" Sookie inquires.

~0~

"Have you ever thought you knew someone and then found out you never really knew them after all?" Eric asks.

"How well do we ever really know a person?" Sookie answers. "We can presume we know why they do such and such, and be angry about it and feel total righteous and justified in that anger. But if we actually could see into the other person's life, are things the way they are because of the way we perceive them? It that what this is about: your mom and dad?"

"All these years, I've been angry with my father because I presumed he left my mother for his own selfish reasons," Eric explains. "Now I find out that just wasn't the case. It never was. I just didn't know it. I was so convinced of things being the way I thought they were; it's like I blacked out all the good things that my father ever did."

Sookie nods patiently, waiting for him to continue when he's ready.

"Why wasn't she honest with me?" he asks. "Was she ever honest about anything? Did she think I'd be angry and hate her? Did she want my sympathy? Maybe she was lying to herself? I'll never really know."

"I don't know."

"I read her diaries," Eric explains. "She lied about so much."

"I'm sorry."

"It's like she was this whole other person I didn't know existed. She had affairs. She had an abortion; she hid the truth from my dad for so long."

She was the one who deserved all my anger, he thinks.

~0~

Eric dozes off on the ride home. When they arrive at the house, she can barely rouse him enough to help her get him out of the car and onto her bed. He's too big for the couch and there's no way she's getting him up the ladder to the loft. She helps him out of his boots and shirt. He fumbles drunkenly with the flies on his jeans, kicking them off. She goes tuck him in and he wraps his arms around her, pulling her down onto the bed, half on top of him. He sloppily kisses her forehead.

Every time she tries to move from his embrace, his eyes flutter open a little and he whispers, "Stay."

This is not what she had in mind all the times she imagined herself in bed with Eric Northman.

His grip loosens as he loses consciousness and she manages to free herself.

She runs her fingers through his hair fondly. He looks almost childlike in his sleep. A giant child. The lines on his forehead have disappeared. She never really noticed them until they weren't there. He definitely carries a lot of anger and worry and tension around with him. She has no idea what tomorrow will bring.

As she heads out to the living room to sleep on the sofa, she turns off the light. "That better not count as our 'going out'" she mutters to herself.

~0~


	24. Chapter 24

_I apologize for the long wait. I've been away from internet access. This is a short chapter, but expect more regular updates from here on out. _

* * *

Eric wakes up to a quiet house. He doesn't immediately recognize where he is. For a moment he panics that he's in Evelyn's home, until he takes a quick inventory of the space and realizes that he's in Sookie's room. The sheets smell like her: sunshine and suntan oil and soap. He's not sure that he's stayed in this bedroom since he was a little boy, too young to climb the ladder by himself.

He feels like shit. His head is pounding and his mouth feels packed with cotton. He struggles to pull his mind together. Eric has always been blessed and cursed with the ability to remember everything he does while under the influence. It's handy to remember what he's done with intoxicated, so he knows if he's done something stupid. It's bad because there are times he's been such an ass, he can't forget how stupid he's been. He cringes as recalls how he ended up in here. He remembers fighting with his father, reading his mother's journals and feeling upset. He recalls storming out in anger and heading over to Evelyn's because there was nowhere else he could think of to go.

She'd been pleased to see him, falling all over herself to invite him in. She'd been out on her patio, reading a book and drinking a margarita. Without asking, he'd helped himself to her drink. When that was finished, he'd asked for another, then another. Eventually they ran out of booze so they'd decided to head to Merlotte's. It had seemed like a wonderful idea at the time.

He remembers sitting there, listening to her go on and on about boring shit. He hadn't paid much attention to a word she was saying. In his head he'd been going over what he'd read in his mother's diaries, the things she'd revealed. He recalls feeling slightly relieved when Sookie had arrived. He remembers chatting with her. He'd felt tired. A few months without liquor had turned him into a light weight, surprisingly tipsy after a few drinks. Normally he could handle a lot more and keep his wits about him.

He'd noticed Sam had been flirting with Sookie and it ticked him off. Eric couldn't see the point. Couldn't Sam see he was totally out of her league? Unless Sookie had been receptive to Sam's advances. He wasn't sure if her smiling was much of an indicator. He'd been on the receiving end of that smile a few times, and he loved it. But, she was so friendly to everyone - well, everyone but him when she was kicking his ass, of course - surely she was just being polite to the bartender.

He remembers that Sookie helped him into the car. He can barely remember the drive back to the house, or getting inside. He guesses the combination emotional exhaustion and the booze must have wreaked havoc on his system if he can't recall. He tries to remember getting himself into bed, but can't. He hopes he didn't do anything dumb. Well, dumber than running off and getting drunk.

He's pretty sure Sookie helped him into bed. He knows he can be a pretty touchy-feely drunk. He remembers hugging her... Oops. Hopefully Sookie will be cool about it. He thinks he may have pulled her down into the bed with him. She was really soft and warm and he hadn't been near a woman like that in quite some time. He rubs tiredly at his eyes. Better Sookie in his bed than Evelyn. She tried to put the moves on him earlier in the evening. He can't recall a time where he ever felt happier that he was feeling too drunk to get it up. He'd have been pretty upset with himself if he'd slept with her. He's pretty sure Sookie wouldn't give him the time of day if she found out he's slept with the brunette. Not that it was any of Sookie's business or anything. Just... well, it wouldn't be cool. She'd already made it clear how she felt about his cheating. Slipping up with his sobriety probably won't impress her. She's probably one of those women who thinks sleeping with someone else when you're on a break is cheating, he muses.

He checks the clock, it's around eleven. He drags himself from his bed and put on yesterday's clothes, which he finds folded neatly on a chair.

He takes a shower and a handful of aspirin. He goes to the laundry room to retrieve a new outfit. He goes into the kitchen and helps himself to a large cup of coffee. When he finally emerges into the living room, he finds Jack and Sookie working through his father's physical therapy. Usually, he's head outside or back up to the loft or into the office. Today, he wants to go nowhere near it. Instead, he sits down on the couch and watches. They are on the floor, where Sookie his helping his father move his limbs. It reminds him of his workouts with his personal trainer.

They both offer him worried smiles when he comes in, but they don't make a comment about what happened the day before. After a few minutes, Sookie and Jack slip back into their familiar pattern of banter. He finds himself oddly intrigued by what they are up to. He can see how hard his father is working. He feels a little guilty that he paid so little attention before to how much his father's treatment involved. He's always been pretty good at avoidance, he concludes.

~0~

A short while later, Sookie goes into the kitchen to begin preparing lunch. He follows her sheepishly.

"Thanks for taking care of me last night," he says. "And giving up your bed."

"No worries," she says, shrugging it off. "It's not like I was gonna try to haul your ginormous ass up that ladder."

"You could have put me on the couch."

"Have you seen that couch? You'd need a chiropractor if you passed out on that thing."

"Still... you didn't have to help me, you know... listening and stuff."

"You're welcome," she says.

"I was pretty upset yesterday," he admits.

"I gathered."

"I'm sorry if I said or did anything stupid."

"You don't need to apologize to me," she replies.

"Shit? Did I insult someone else?" He sounds panicked. Losing control of himself when intoxicated in public is one of his biggest fears. As a celebrity, he just can't afford bad publicity he can't even account for.

"No, you didn't," she assures him. "I think the only person you need to apologize to is yourself."

He chews his lips thoughtfully.

"Are you okay?" she asks.

"I think so," he says. "Last night was a mistake."

"Why'd you do it?"

"I got upset and ran for the bottle."

"Are you going to do that every time you get upset?"

"I don't think so," he answers.

When she raises an eyebrow in response, he adds: "I don't want to."

"Good."

He's disappointed in himself, she can see it. She can't see the point in beating him up about it. She decides to call the doctor after lunch to see if he has any advice for how to deal with a situation of this kind. Surely he doesn't need to go back to rehab? Eric hasn't mentioned a thing about meetings, so she doesn't know what his support plan is. She doesn't mind asking him, but she's reluctant to be perceived as nagging. She knows addicts are fragile and can use any excuse as justification for a backwards slide... She thinks she'll defer to the experts on this one.

"Hey, Eric?" she asks as she turns to leave the kitchen.

"Yeah?"

"Next time you feel upset, you know you can talk to me, right?"

"Uh huh."

"I'm a pretty good listener," she tells him. "And I've signed your agreement, so you don't have to worry about me selling your secrets."

He snorts. "You don't think Evelyn is a good confidante?"

Sookie shakes her head woefully. "She might be more receptive to you affections," she informs him with a cheeky grin. "But you can ask me for a cuddle anytime."

Eric grins crookedly.


	25. Chapter 25

_I'm so sorry for the late update and shortness of chapter. I had to work a few days when I was supposed to have vacation and lost a lot of writing time. I thought you'd prefer a quick update instead of a full week's wait. Thank you so much for the kind and wonderful reviews. I'm so behind I didn't get chance to respond individually, but I hope to do so on future updates. (Expect a few this weekend.)_

* * *

- **Eric Northman: Off the wagon**

Eric Northman has allegedly fallen of the wagon and into bed with Evelyn Orr, a Josephine County woman.

"They had sexual relations," reveals a close friend. Orr, a high school teacher, is apparently neighbours with the sexy Swede at his lakeside vacation home in Oregon.

"They've hung out a few times, getting pretty hot and heavy," the source tells _Celebrity News_ exclusively. The source went on to add that the pair had been drinking pretty heavily at a local watering hole, until Sookie Stackhouse - the blonde we've previously reported as being seen with Northman - arrived to take him home.

"He left with the blonde, they looked pretty cozy. Evelyn was hurt to discover he had a girlfriend. I guess once a cheater, always a cheater."

~0~

Voicemail of Eric Northman:

9:38 a.m. What the fuck is going on up there? I just got off the phone with Celebrity News. They were looking for verification about some Eeyore woman you've allegedly been having an affair with? Sookie already filled me in on the drinking snafu, I'm not going to say anything... but you _need_ to call me back about the depressed donkey... we have to do some damage control STAT! I'm thinking you'll owe me some Hermes after this one, dipshit!

Eric calls Pam back as soon as he's finished listening to her voicemail. Donkey, WTF?

~0~

Voicemail of Sookie Stackhouse:

9:36 a.m. Sookie? This is Pam. Call me back immediately... please.

10:17 a.m. Hey sis, it's me. I thought you said you weren't dating that guy? How come I'm getting a call from some reporter askin' if he's been cheating on you? You need me to come kick his ass?

~0~

By the time Eric gets the voicemail from Pam and has a chance to call her back, news has reached Sookie. It's the only reason Eric can think of to explain why she is in his room looking like she wants to murder someone. She'd invited herself up to his loft, her jaw set and her eyes hard.

"Sookie, I'm so, so sorry..." he starts to explain, but she cuts him off.

"Don't!" she says, making a 'tell it to the hand' gesture. "I've had it up to here with this! I'm about ready to slap a bitch!" Her southern twang is coming out with her anger.

"I didn't mean for..."

"Which house is hers?" she demands.

"Wait, what, who?"

"That Eeyore bitch! Is it the old house or the newer one?"

"Eeyore?"

"Evelyn Orr as in E. Orr," she explains, rolling her eyes in a manner that eerily reminds him of his manager.

E. Orr = Eeyore. Now the depressed donkey comment makes sense. "You're not mad at me?" he clarifies.

She stops. "What? No! I mean, I'm mad as hell, but at that psycho bitch for selling her story to the rags."

"Oh," he says. "I thought you'd be angry at me."

"Well, I'm kind of ticked at you too, but you're a grown-assed man who can make whatever fucked up mistakes he wants. That bitch crossed the line when she dragged me into it!"

"How do you know it was her?"

"Sam and Arlene and the staff at the bar wouldn't sell you out, I know that much," she explains. "No one else there was paying you a lick of attention. So either she called herself, or she's been yapping off her big mouth to one of her friends and they sold her out."

"How can you be so sure it wasn't Sam?"

"First, I doubt they'd sell a fake story about you."

"What do you mean fake? I was drinking at their bar."

Sookie smiles. "Nope, you weren't."

"Um, I'm pretty sure I was. I ordered several rum and cokes. You saw for yourself how drunk I was."

She laughs. "Oh, you were drunk... but no one saw you drinking alcohol at Merlotte's... they'd been serving you plain cokes since you arrived!"

"I knew those drinks sucked!"

"Sam and company wouldn't sell you out like that... not after all these years. They would have refused to serve you drinks even if you'd arrived sober."

That must have been what Sam and Sookie had spent so much time talking about.

"The only person who knew you were drinking for sure was Evelyn. She's the only one who had anything to gain from this story getting out."

~0~

"I'm not letting you go over there and get yourself in trouble," Eric says, putting his hands on Sookie's shoulders to emphasize his point.

"I'm not really going to go over there," Sookie says as her anger deflates. "I'm just mad as a wet cat."

"I can see that," he says, looking at her thoughtfully.

"What?" She asks, blushing under his attention.

"Nothing," he says, shrugging slightly. He brushes a stray hair off her cheek. She's really beautiful (and slightly terrifying), even when she's angry. He wishes he wasn't to blame. If he'd just kept it in his pants with Evelyn. If he had talked to his father or Sookie, or just gone for a run, anything other than knocking on that woman's door and picking up a bottle, none of this would have happened. Yeah, Evelyn, is a bitch, or one of her friend's is a total shit... but she's not alone in that. It takes two to tango. He also knows better. He's well aware of the power of celebrity and how it messes with people. Hell, it messes with his own head. He's genuinely sorry that this is happening. He didn't feel this bad when it got out that he'd been cheating on Yvetta. He knows that says something, but he's not ready yet to delve too deeply into what that is exactly.

Instead, he steps back from Sookie and gestures for her to take a seat. He decides to start at the only place he knows: the beginning.

"I went to her house, but nothing happened, I swear," he says.

"If nothing happened, why is Pam all bent out of shape?" Sookie asks.

"You spoke to Pam?"

"Yeah," she says.

"Oh... well, nothing happened last night, that's true," he admits.

"But that time she was at the house?"

Shit. Eric wants to lie, he really does. Somehow he knows that Sookie is too smart for that. She totally has his number. He tries a new approach: honesty.

~0~

"What stupidity has my son got up to now?" Jack asks as Sookie sits next to him on the deck.

She snorts. Jack knows his son pretty well.

"Not much," she answers. "Some woman - or one of her friends - went to the media with a story about him drinking and having 'sexual relations' with her."

"Is it true?" he asks.

"They've messed around." There's no sense in lying to Jack about it.

"Wonderful," he says sardonically. "It's unfortunate, but nothing he can't survive."

"True."

"And how are you faring in all of this?"

"Well, the woman claims she had no idea he was cheating on his girlfriend, who is me, according to the magazine."

"Ah."

"Yeah, I keep telling my brother there's nothing going on but he's one of those types who believe everything he reads."

"I see."

"Dumb ass can barely read, mind you," she jokes.

"I'm glad you can find humour in this situation," Jack says. "Just a week ago your private life was your own. It must be strange."

"Out here I'm not all that affected by it, I won't know how much of a problem it is until we get back I guess. My friends are more bothered than I am right now."

"It is good to have protective friends," he replies. "I wish Eric had such people in his life."

Sookie sighs softly. She wishes he did too. He probably would have made some different choices. "That's up to Eric."

"True enough," Jack agrees.

The two sit silently for a bit, enjoying the scene.

* * *

**A/N:** Shit's about to get real...


	26. Chapter 26

**_All portions written in italics are "excerpts" from Freya's journal._**

_Here comes a great big wrecking ball: Freya has some 'splaining to do._

* * *

After Sookie leaves the room, Eric falls back on his bed. He massages his forehead with the base of his hand, hoping to rub the stress away. He's embarrassed that's he's fallen off the wagon publicly, but he knows it's not the end of the world. Most addicts trip a few times on the path to sobriety. He's not concerned that he's going to fall back into bad habits because of one dumb night. He feels ashamed of his behaviour with Evelyn and not because the story got out. There are many women out there who could make similar claims, true or false.

He hates the expression he saw on Sookie's face when he admitted he'd been intimate with Evelyn. He didn't get into the specifics, but Sookie's not a stupid woman, she figured it out. She wasn't angry, she didn't look disgusted. For a moment, disappointment had flickered across her face before her visage went blank. If he hadn't been watching at her so intently, he probably would have missed it. He didn't like the way it made her look.

On the one hand, Eric feels a sense of relief now that it's all out there. He knows that Pam is going to find a way to make Evelyn look like a liar. He feels optimistic that Pam will twist the fact that he didn't drink any alcohol at Merlotte's into a "he said, she said" with a woman who got her knickers in a knot because she wanted something from Eric Northman that he couldn't give. He doesn't care about that. He finds that he does feel bad that Sookie's been drawn back into it. With his own travel article, he'd planned to reveal that she's just his father's nurse and straighten that out. It just feels all icky now. Icky. What is he, a twelve year old girl?

The thought that he caused Sookie pain at the idea that he was with another woman brought out a mix of emotions in him. He feels curiosity, surprise and guilt. He isn't sure if he is ready to explore why. They aren't together. She's expressed nothing more than an interest in friendship with him, no matter how hard he has flirted, not that he's ever expressed any serious intent.

What is it about her reaction that makes him feel this way when being caught actually cheating on his purported fiancée didn't?

~0~

Eric heads down from the loft, hoping to speak to Jack. When he sees that his father isn't in the living room or kitchen, he assumes he's out on the deck. Heading out through the kitchen, he spies Jack and Sookie through the open door. Their backs are to him and they don't realize he's there. Just as he's about to join them, Sookie turns to Jack. Eric hangs back, listening.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Sookie asks.

"I don't want to be a bother," Jack replies.

"It's not a bother if I offer to listen."

"I suppose not."

"So?"

"So, what?"

"Confession is good for the soul," Sookie tells him.

"Perhaps."

"Forget perhaps," she chides. "It's the undeniable truth. C'mon, hit me with it, you'll feel better."

Jack considers this for a moment before continuing. Eric ducks back inside the door where they won't see him if they turn around, but he can still hear clearly. What his father says next surprises him.

"You know, I am very proud of Eric," Jack states.

"But?" Sookie prods, sensing he has more to say.

"No buts," he answers.

"In spite of his flaws, warts and all, huh?"

"Yes, even if he falls of the off the wagon a million times. He is one my proudest achievements. I love him. I will always love him and I'll always be proud of him."

That's a shocker. Eric's heard his father tell him he's proud of him plenty of times. He's heard his father tell him he loves him a multitude more. His father has never had difficulty expressing his emotions, but this is the first time Eric doesn't doubt his father's words. His father doesn't know he's listening; he has nothing to gain by lying, no ulterior motive.

"I never meant for any of my issues with his mother to hurt him the way it has. I must admit, I myself was a mess when I first left. I felt lost without her. I tried to talk to him about it, but those two were always so close..." Jack trails off. "He was always so busy, telling me he didn't have time. His mother told me that she'd talk to him - that he'd take it better from her."

Eric frowns. Freya never talked to him about it. Whenever he did ask, she would say it was too painful to talk about, or she'd blame is father, or she'd change the subject. Apparently he's not the only master avoider in the family. Like mother, like son, he muses.

"Eric told me a little about why you left," Sookie offers hesitantly.

"When I first left Freya, I didn't tell him the whole story," Jack responds. "I told him I couldn't do it anymore, but the why's of that... I felt those were her stories to tell. I was worried he would say I was trying to manipulate him or something. I don't know. Maybe I should have told him differently, but I can't take it back or change it now."

"I can't speak the problems between you and Eric," she says. "But, on the other stuff, I think I get it. They were her actions and you felt it was her place to explain it. Once he's had some time to think it over, I'd be surprised if he holds you entirely at fault."

"He does." Jack stares out at the lake. After a moment, he says: "I loved his mother very much. It was love at first sight... for me, at least."

~0~

Eric is curious what his father is going to say. He's heard many of his parent's stories as he grew up, but as he learned last night, there was a lot he didn't know. He wants to feel angry that his father is opening up to a virtual stranger, but he knows his father was being truthful when he told Sookie that there were things Eric refused to hear or wasn't ready to accept. He wonders if Jack has told Anne about these things. The thought that his father has kept these things to himself all this times makes him feel surprisingly sad.

"I was eighteen, she was fifteen. I was taken with her immediately. Mostly, she thought I was an annoying braggart. She was not sold on me at first blush," Jack says wistfully.

Eric listens as his father tells Sookie the story of how he and Freya came to meet. He is reminded of the passage in his mother's journal where she shares her initial thoughts on her future husband.

_Jakob is a frustrating jackass! He constantly teases me, like a little boy yanking braids in the school yard. Always showing off, talking about how he wants to be an actor and how one day I could write plays for him, as if the idea of spending more time together is supposed to entice me!_

"After much wooing, I convinced her to marry me. We wanted to have a million little babies and we practiced every day. We were so thrilled when we found out about Eric!"

_Today is my 23rd birthday. I just received news from the doctor that I am with child. Jakob was elated to hear the news. I am nervous and excited. There is so much I don't know about being a mother._

"When we tried to have a second child, nothing happened. After a few years, we went to the doctor who informed us that an infection had left her infertile," Jack explains.

_We have been trying for months... Jakob wants to go to the doctor and find out what is wrong._

~0~

_The doctor told me that the infection I had left scarring on my uterus, which he believes is the cause of my infertility. I told Jakob that I'd had a bladder infection that didn't get treated until it spread to my uterus and I didn't realize it until very late, so it must have done damage before I sought medical treatment. He believed me. I know he's sad, but he is being so supportive. He' so sweet to me and I feel guilty. There is a part of me that wants to tell him I don't deserve his love, but I can't risk losing him._

Eric knows now what Jack didn't know then. The infection was the result of an abortion she'd had. While his father was off filming, his mother had an affair.

_I'm pregnant. There is no way that Jakob won't realize he is not the father. He's been away too long, and he'll know I cheated. I don't doubt that he could forgive my transgression, but to raise another man's child? I don't want to have Ander's baby and Eric is still so young, I'm not ready for another infant yet. I have no other options._

~0~

_I took Eric to Jakob's parents for a few days so I could have the procedure. I feel empty... literally and figuratively. Where there was something, now there is nothing. I feel relief. I know this makes me a bad person but I can't care._

~0~

_I went to the doctor today about the pain in my abdomen. Somehow, not all the tissue was properly removed during the procedure and caused an infection. He prescribed antibiotics and said it should be fine. Jakob is still on location and I'm not telling him about it._

"For years, I'd begged and pleaded with Freya to adopt. She would always refuse. Eventually, I let it go, but it hurt. I couldn't understand why her infertility should stop us from having their dream family. I was frustrated by it, but I was in love. I just wanted to please her."

_He keeps asking me to consider adoption, but I can't. This is the punishment I must bear. Sometimes I feel so bad, but to tell him the truth would hurt him too much._

"As Eric got older, Freya and I had some issues. Things would be good for a while before she would withdraw, staying in bed or disappearing for a few days. She wouldn't talk to me about what was upsetting her. She would tell me she was an artist and I shouldn't be surprised by such things. She was very good at hiding it whenever she spoke to strangers, of course. Everyone close to her just laughed about Freya's stormy turns. 'She's off writing a masterpiece,' they'd insist. I was silly to worry, she just needed her space."

_I am miserable. Some days the guilt just eats me alive. Whenever we see couples with young children, I can see it in Jack's face. Every time Eric asks for a baby brother or sister, my heart breaks a little. He doesn't know how much it hurts me and Jack to think about this. I believe that I am suffering for my sins._

"Was the infertility really the result of an infection?" Sookie asks, piecing things together from what Eric revealed to her the night before.

"She'd had complications after an abortion, the result of an affair," Jack admits.

"She didn't come clean then?" Sookie wonders.

"No. Ironically enough, it was while I was making the movie and finding this very lake that she'd had an affair. Who knows, I might have been able to forgive this after leaving my young wife alone for months at a time. She didn't give me the choice."

"How did you find out?" Sookie asks.

"I read her diaries," Jack admits. "I know it's not nice, but I was at my wit's end."

"About six years ago, I was here for a few weeks after filming. Usually Freya would join me, but that year she couldn't - she'd been invited to speak at some conference somewhere. One night, I was enjoying a bottle of wine, and I went into the office looking for a book to read. I saw the journals. I knew it was an invasion of her privacy, but I wanted to understand what was going on in that stubborn head of hers."

He recalls standing in the office that night, a glass of wine on his hand. He'd pulled one of the diaries off the shelf. Perhaps it wasn't the right thing to do, but they'd been sitting right there for nearly twenty-five years, out in the open. He felt justified by the fact that he wanted to help his wife and she wouldn't open up to him. He thought it would be worth the risk of making her mad if he could gain some insight into her mind.

What he read angered and horrified him: the truth in her own words. She'd lied to him, cheated on him. He began to doubt everything he knew. The more he read; the more questions it raised.

"That week I read through the rest of her journals. I know I was away a lot, I understand that... but to read her justifications to herself, her musings on her own life... I felt like I'd never really known the woman at all. The more I thought about it, the more my resentment grew."

Eric understands this. Freya hadn't just cheated on Jack once. She had multiple affairs. She used to go away on these writer retreats or just disappear and claim she was working, while in reality she was off with her lovers.

"When I found out the truth it changed everything. She had been lying to me for so long, and I'd been blaming myself."

"By the time I left the lake, I knew what I was going to do the moment the plane touched down in Stockholm. It might have been unfair, but for years, I'd denied things for her sake. I no longer felt I owed her that. I'd done that for thirty years. I felt that she'd been the selfish one for three decades and now it was my turn. I was leaving so I could salvage some part of the life I'd always wanted for myself and her deception had prevented."

"When I confronted her, she didn't deny it."

"What did she say?" Sookie asks.

"She told me to leave," Jack answers. "So I did."

"I never dreamed that it would push my son and I further apart," he says. "I didn't know that she would lie to him too. It took facing my own mortality and the impending birth of my third child to make me realize that Eric needed to learn the truth."

Sookie's phone rings. She looks at the display before rising from her seat, announcing she needs to take this call. Eric dashes from his position by the door into the hall. He hears Sookie's footsteps as she passes through the kitchen. Not wanting to be caught eavesdropping, he ducks into the office. He hears her answer the phone as she walks past the office into her room. Heart is hammering. He's not sure how much of that is because of what he overheard, or because he was nearly discovered. He waits a moment until he's sure she is not coming back before exiting the room and heading back toward the deck.

* * *

**A/N:** This chapter is a beast that didn't want to come out of it's cave. I'm not entirely happy with it, but, like a wrecking ball - it gets the job done. I apologize if the 'speaker' is difficult to determine in this chapter. I've read and re-read and edited the heck out of it so it may have some repetition that I've missed. Please let me know if you find anything glaring to correct/clarify. If anyone wonders wonder who the heck is Jakob, it is Jack. If you notice that Freya switches from Jakob to Jack at some point... that is on purpose.


	27. Chapter 27

_I apologize for the lack of updates and shortness of the chapter. Real life has been kicking my butt. Even though the remaining chapters have been written for some time, when doing a final review, I just wasn't happy with what I'd written. I didn't feel it could be published as it was. It took me forever to feel okay with it. Finally, the stars aligned so I thought I'd give you something to tide you over. Thanks for all your comments on the last few chapters, your feedback means the world to me._

* * *

When Eric steps out on to the deck, Jack is lying back on his chair, enjoying the sunshine. His eyes are closed and if Eric hadn't heard him speaking a few moments ago, he'd think the old man was peacefully sleeping.

"Dad?" he says softly, half hoping his father is snoozing.

"Yes?"

Eric's heart skips a beat. He nearly loses his nerve. There are so many things there on the tip of his tongue, but he has no idea what to say, how to start. Fuck it, he decides.

"I fucked up," he announces.

Jack opens his eyes and struggles to sit up. Eric heads over to help him adjust the chair into a more upright position. "Thanks," Jack says.

After a moment's pause, Eric responds, "That's it, 'thanks?' You aren't going to say anything?"

Jack glances at him. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you weren't finished," he says. "I didn't want to interrupt."

Eric practically collapses onto the chair next to his father, holding his head in his hands. "Fuck, I just... everything is fucked and I don't know how to fix it."

Jack smiles at his son fondly. "Sometimes you remind me of your mother."

"What?" Given everything he's learned about his mother in the past 24 hours, he's not sure if that's meant to be taken as an insult or not.

"She was so intense about everything. Either everything was great, or everything was terrible, there was no in between," Jack elaborates. "She always felt everything was hers alone to fix."

Oh.

"She was wrong of course," Jack adds. "Just like you are when you say 'everything is fucked up and you don't know how to fix it.' As if it's your burden to bear all by your lonesome. Get off the cross Eric, there are more productive uses for that wood."

~0~

"Hey Lafayette," Sookie answers her phone.

"How you holdin' up girl?"

Bless Lafayette and his near psychic ability to sense when she's not okay, she thinks.

"That good huh?" he asks.

"Yeah," she sighs. Her whole body seems to sag as she laughs sardonically.

"I figured as much," he replies confidently.

"I'm going to guess you're calling about the latest news?"

"You just can't keep out of trouble, can you missy?" he teases.

"You know me, I just love the spotlight!" she jokes back. "I just found out about that report this morning, how the heck are you so tuned in to this crap?"

"I gots you on my Google alerts!"

"Shut up, you do not!" she laughs.

"I wish I were joking."

Leave it to Laffy to be her biggest gossip stalker.

"I haven't even read the article," she says. "What does it say?"

"That he cheatin' on you," he tells her. "Crazy bitch make it sound like she pity you for being a dumb broad who stays with her fool of a man."

"Yeah, well, she's a dumb ho."

"Meow!"

Sookie pictures her friend giving her one of his patented looks. "Whatever, it's true."

"How you know that?"

"What kind of woman sells her sex life to the tabloids?"

"So there is some truth to it?" Lafayette asks, totally interested.

Sookie groans. "Which part?"

"Well, I know you two ain't datin'," Lafayette tells her. "But did he play hide the salami with the school teacher?"

"Gross and no, not hide the salami," she squeals.

"Fine, they play swallow the salami?"

"I think I just threw up a little in my mouth."

"I notice you ain't sayin' no to that one," he observes.

"I don't know exactly what happened," she admits. "More than hand holding, less than sex, so yeah... probably."

"How you know that?"

"He told me."

"He told you?"

"That's what I said."

"He just volunteered this info?" Laf asks skeptically.

"After I confronted him about it."

"I see."

"Do you?"

"Mm-hmm," he drawls. "Lala see all."

Sookie rolls her eyes in response. "So tell me, oh, wise one, what is it that you see?"

"I see that my girl is headed for a shitload of trouble if she don't pull her head out her ass and tells me what the hellz is really going on out there."

"Honestly, it's none of my business what happened between them," she says. "I'm just mad that she managed to bring me back into it."

"You sure that's all you mad about?" her friend asks, sounding concerned.

"Yeah, basically."

"Forget basically, how about complicatedly?"

Sookie sighs. "It's just... can't a guy go a week without putting his dick in something?"

"Ouch," Laf responds. "I think it's probably been longer than that, what with him being in rehab and all."

Sookie knows he's right, but still, she's a kind of pissed.

"It's just, doesn't he know better? I mean... with all the bad publicity lately, what was he thinking?"

"He wasn't thinking, he was drunk," Lafayette argues.

"Actually, not when it happened he wasn't. The sexual relations occurred when he was very much on the wagon."

"Mmm. You sound pretty pissed about it."

"Well, yeah, I feel sort of protective of him."

"You sure that's all it is?"

"Um, yeah," she replies. "What else would it be? I just don't get men and how they claim to feel one way and then go fuck anything with a pulse." It ticked her off that Eric could flirt with her and then let that woman touch him.

"Hmmph."

"What does that mean?" Sookie demands.

"Nothin'."

"You sure about that?"

"Am I sure about what?"

"I know you Sooks. I know you think he's the shit in the looks department. You've been spending some time with him obviously. You seem more than a little ticked that he's got himself caught up with this ho-bag."

Sookie hates how well Lafayette knows her sometimes.

"I'm not judgin' just askin' about my best friend's very breakable heart."

Sookie exhales. "I know. So?"

"Listen to Lala, girl. He a man. He like a little oral. He could fucking love you and not even think about it when a bitch offers to suck his ding-a-ling. It don't mean nothin'. Maybe it should, but he ain't yours yet."

"I know that!" she says, sounding affronted.

"But you want him to be?"

"I didn't say that," she responds quickly.

* * *

**A/N:** Next up - Eric finally faces his father.


	28. Chapter 28

"I always thought you were so happy," Eric remarks.

"We were."

"But you weren't really, were you?"

"I didn't know it at the time," Jack shrugs. "I accepted the good with the bad."

"She didn't?"

"I'm not saying that," his father replies. "I saw things I didn't like, but I didn't rail against them."

Eric thinks about what his father is saying.

"I'm trying to say that I don't blame her," Jack says.

"You think your being busy with work justified her cheating and lying?"

"No, I mean it wasn't all her fault. It's much more complicated than one person being at fault. For example, I met your mother when she was a young girl, a child. In truth, I wasn't much more than a boy myself," Jack goes on with a shrug. "She went straight from her mother and father's house into mine. She went from having her parents doing things for her, to me trying to take care of her."

Eric had known this, of course, but had never considered how it would make a difference to anything.

"I at least had a few years on my own. In retrospect, it probably stunted her emotionally."

That was certainly an interesting perspective.

"Remember when you went into the military, how important it was to you?"

Yes. Eric felt that it was a crucial part of his development. He became his own man, separate from his parent's identity. It wasn't being a soldier that made him feel that way. It was the act of making the choice to do something and follow it through, of having a plan and sticking to it. His mother never really did have that, did she?

"Truthfully, she was spoiled."

Eric goes to argue, but Jack stops him, regarding him pointedly.

"She was the princess of her family and then I indulged her terribly. It was the only way I knew to show my affection. It took me many years to see it, but much of what pained me about her behaviour was her selfishness. It was something I'd done nothing to help her control, how could I blame her for it?"

~0~

"I think I understand now why you wanted to leave," Eric says. "For thirty years, she lied about the most basic things. It wasn't perfect, but you accepted it right until you figured it out. That's what you meant when you said you couldn't do it anymore, isn't it?

"Yes," Jack answers honestly.

"When you told me you were leaving, you didn't really explain why, beyond claiming you couldn't do it anymore and told me talk to my mother. Whenever I asked her what happened, she said you had decided to leave her... but that's wasn't entirely true."

For years, his father had tried to talk to him about his mother's moods. He'd been too busy with his own daddy issues to get it. Eric bites his lip and stares at the water. "What makes it worse is that she wasn't just dishonest with you. She lied to me too. She never told me any of that stuff."

"I know."

"She knew we had a pretty strained relationship since I was a teenager. She knew I was angry at you. She knew why and she never said."

Jack doesn't answer, just listens.

Eric closes his eyes and focuses on calming his anger. Even if his dad had tried to talk to him about it, he knows he wouldn't have listened. He's angry at himself. He wants to be angry at Jack for not making him listen. He wants to blame someone, and Freya's not here.

"I've wasted so much time being angry at you for things you didn't even do."

"Now you feel angry at her," Jack observes.

Eric nods.

"I don't want you to be. That's not why I told you."

~0~

"For years I felt like you left me to take care of her," Eric tells Jack.

"I'm so sorry for that son. I can understand how you saw it that way, but that wasn't my intention at all," Jack says regretfully. "I just felt it was her turn to take care of herself. For the first time since she was fifteen years old, she needed to learn to stand on her own two feet."

She wanted to do it for herself, even. That's what she'd told him when he confronted her. Jack realizes that perhaps now she was saying that to save face and look strong.

"She told me that she could do it. She didn't need me to stick around and hold her hand."

Surely he can't be held accountable for her inability to do that, could he? She'd always had the power to make him feel vulnerable, even now, after death. He can't help but feel that it's not fair. It's like he's the one who has to keep paying the price for her infidelity and dishonesty. He never imagined that when he stopped being her keeper, his son would fall into the position. He felt like a terrible father.

"If I'd known... I wouldn't have done it the way I did, but she wouldn't let me help her. I just couldn't be the only one taking care of us anymore."

Eric can see that Jack is growing upset. He thinks about what Sookie told him about stress being bad for his father's condition. He reaches out and puts his arm around the other man's shoulders.

"Don't Dad, don't," he soothes. "You can't... we can't be held responsible for another person's mental health."

Eric is shocked to realize how much he means what he just said, but he does. Before this moment, he'd never really considered his mother's inability to cope as symptom of her own failure. He'd simply been angry that he'd had to stand in for his father.

"It wasn't your job to do it," Jack says.

"I had to do it."

"I'm sorry, Eric."

"I know."

"I didn't mean for it to become your problem."

"I had to do it," Eric repeats. "Who else would have done it?"

"Her!" Jack spits angrily. "Damn it! It was her turn to take care of herself, for her to take care of you. It wasn't fair to you and I'm sorry - but that was her behaviour, not mine."

Eric knows what his father means.

Was it fair to expect his father to still be his mother's keeper after the divorce? In an ideal world, it wouldn't have gone the way it did... but Jack Northman is just a man. He makes mistakes. His wife was certainly flawed... he was allowed to have his moments of weakness too. Eric can't hate his father for that.

~0~

Once Sookie has ended her call with Lafayette, she heads back to check on Jack. As she approaches the door through the kitchen onto the patio, she realizes that Eric is out there conversing with his father. She pauses at the door, straining to hear. It's not that she wants to eavesdrop; it's that she doesn't want to intrude on a private conversation.

The men are speaking Swedish. She peeks through the door and sees that Eric has his arm around his father. Things look intense.

She's glad to see that they are finally talking, even if it's not about anything important. She decides to leave them be. They'll let her know if they need her.

~0~

"I've wasted so much time," Eric says. "So much energy and anger and stupidity because of her selfishness."

"Don't," Jack cautions.

"What?"

"Don't start to hate her because of this."

"Why not?"

"Because, like you say, it's a waste of your energy. She wasn't evil, Eric. She was human."

Eric concludes that is father is a more patient man than he could ever be. "Fuck."

"It's okay to feel hurt and upset, but don't forget all the things that were wonderful about her."

Eric practically rolls his eyes. "Pardon me for not sharing your attitude at the moment."

"I've had a few years to get used to it," Jack replies. "Give it time."

"I am a lot like her," Eric states. "That must drive you nuts."

"In the best possible way," Jack says fondly, chuckling to himself. "You're both equal parts infuriating and awe-inspiring."

Eric smiles wistfully.

"From the moment I met her, I had to have her. She was like a drug to me."

"You really loved her."

"Yes. She had a way of seeing the world that I didn't. I loved to act and put on someone else's life as a way of exploring the world. If your mother was bored, she went out and did something about it."

Eric wonders if that's what accounted for his mother's numerous affairs. He knows it's one way he's justified his own behaviour.

"I guess that's another way I'm like Freya," Eric mumbles to himself. "I've cheated."

"I don't think you can blame your mother for that," Jack replies. "Though perhaps, subconsciously, she taught you that it was okay."

"Did you ever cheat on her?" he asks hesitantly.

"No."

"Why not?"

Jack looks at him as though he has asked the most bizarre question ever.

"She was the woman of my dreams, why would I risk that for a bit of strange? I didn't think losing my family was worth it."

Eric isn't sure what to make of the revelation. On one hand, Jack has always claimed this to be the case; but on the other hand, he knows what the temptation for a successful actor is like.

"Didn't you wonder?"

"Your mother wasn't the only woman I ever dated Eric, if that's what you're asking."

Eric's blush gives him away.

"Sure, curiosity is normal. But is your entire future worth a few minutes of fucking? I never thought so."

Eric's a little impressed by his father's attitude.

"And Anne?"

"I'm damn lucky she's willing to touch my old man penis, remember?" Jack jokes. "I'm not taking any chances."

* * *

**A/N:** Phew. They talked. The original draft was much, much longer. I had to re-write this conversation so many times. I also cut the length in half - too many topics were being tackled and I wanted to keep it simple. There's still a lot of stuff under the surface, but they've reached an understanding where Freya is concerned. Let the healing begin.


End file.
